Second Magnitude
by Shambhalasoulful
Summary: You know the foundation for this was laid long before your star appeared in the north. All that remained was the definitive moment, when he slipped through the crevices of fate and landed at your back, a hand on your head and a self-assured grin on his lips. (Formerly titled Castles in the Sky and recently revised.)
1. A Record of Beginnings

**A/N**: Ah, yeah, another one bites the dust! More Yura (and Rikuo) for your palate, and this one's my baby! It will be my first (published) multi-chaptered story, so I really hope you all will give me your honest feedback. A huge heartfelt thanks to all those who have read and/or reviewed my stories. Your support means the world to me. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Nurarihyon no Mago_ in any way, shape, or form. Consider yourselves lucky. ;)

**Revised on June 18, 2013.**

* * *

The way he looks at you? It's strange. Very few people gaze at you so openly, as if they're perfectly entitled to do so.

But he's always looked at you that way. That's not the strangest part of this scenario.

Even more bizarre is the way you return his look, a comfortable contentment spreading through your chest.

If your response were in any way like your classmates describe, you wouldn't worry. You can deal with fireworks and electricity, shortness of breath and vertigo. These sensations are normal, almost laughable in their familiarity. They should be nothing to one who has experienced the life you have.

But this feeling of safety? Security? The overwhelming urge to remain _here_, in this place, with your feet curled against your side and a hot cup of tea in hand, while he lounges against the opposite wall, telltale smirk on his features?

You aren't used to that. Not with a boy who isn't your cousin or your brother or your grandfather.

There is something wrong with the way you sometimes have to remind yourself that he is not human, that you should _care_ that he is not human.

You don't. You haven't for a long time. And perhaps that's the strangest part of all.

The next day, you should discreetly pull away when he drops a casual hand on your shoulder and offers you a smile, glasses perched on his nose and 'good morning' alight on his lips.

Instead, you gift the same greeting, smile just as warm, words just as genuine.

It's easier to forget when he looks like this, talks like this, acts like this. Normal, if a little overzealous. _Nura-kun._

Then again, it's not like you have any sound foundation in whatever 'normal' is. But it's easier.

You go to class, copy the homework assignment, meet for lunch and study hall, converse with the others while Oikawa-san dotes on him like usual, pretend to pay attention as Kiyotsugu-kun plans another youkai rendezvous.

It's good, _great_, until he invites you to dinner. With a chuckle, he informs you that his mother added eggs to the menu, just for you.

How can you say 'no'?

_Easy. Open your mouth._

Instead, you nod, as if the thought of refusing never came into your head.

How can you say 'no'? You could have, but you didn't. Just like all the other times, ever since you came back to Ukiyoe the previous spring.

You return to your apartment and head to the roof like every day, where you alternate between homework and target practice. Later that afternoon, you convene with the others at a nearby shrine, where Kiyotsugu-kun insists an evil spirit resides. You share a look with the others, catch the tolerance that echoes on all of your faces. There are no apparitions here, unless you count the dust bunnies prowling the shadowed corners. But Kiyotsugu-kun's passion has always been admirable, if a bit obsessive, and none of you see the harm in allowing him his happiness.

Two hours before the sun sets, you exchange your goodbyes and go your separate ways. You follow Nura-kun to the manor and listen to his easy conversation, lift your brow amusingly when he promises that Oikawa-san is only responsible for the dishes that are _supposed_ to be cold. He removes his glasses and places them in his pocket, and you ask why he still bothers to wear them. He shrugs.

"I guess I've gotten so used to them, it would feel wrong to just get rid of them." He shrugs again with a smile. "I'm not hiding behind them anymore, but it would still feel weird to just leave them home one day, you know?"

He looks to you, seemingly expecting understanding, and you nod. You do understand. The fact that you ride the bus, wear the uniform, attend school at _all_, is for the same reason.

With so many oddities in your lives, it's nice to have something normal to hold onto, a school uniform or a pair of glasses you don't really need.

Nura-kun seems confident that you would empathize, and it gladdens you, the idea that he can confide in you, and you in him. That you can lean on each other, if need be.

Two years ago, you never would have considered such a thing. Now, you can't imagine doing anything less.

You hear the ruckus of the manor's inhabitants before you see the front gates, and you shake your head. It's always the same here, no matter the time of day, no matter the circumstances. It's such a different atmosphere from the Main House, where the din of the city is the only thing to puncture the quiet.

As soon as you enter, crowds of youkai appear along the veranda, voices raised in greeting their young master. He offers a wave in reply, and Oikawa-san appears at the forefront to welcome him home, along with the rest of his personal entourage. Surprisingly, they acknowledge you with what seems to be genuine welcome, and you can only nod to each in turn with a little confusion. Despite your teamwork in Kyoto those few years ago, none of you can be called friends, so their easy acceptance surprises you.

_It's…okay_, you decide, that you can at least be friendly with these people, despite a history that stems back millennia.

Soon after your arrival, the crowds disperse to their various rooms, and the parties resume without a hitch. Nura-kun leads you to the kitchen, Oikawa-san and Kejourou-san in tow. Delicious scents waft down the halls, and you breathe deeply, your mouth threatening to water. You've always had a healthy appetite, and you haven't eaten since lunch earlier that morning. The doors open to the sight of simmering pots and sizzling pans, and his mother turns to the group with a bright smile and cheery welcome. You remember how lively the woman is, and barely stiffen as she gathers you in an embrace, yellow kimono shining under the fluorescent lights as she exclaims how glad she is you decided to come. She tenderly cups Nura-kun's cheek before spinning in place, wooden spoon coming down with a _smack_ on a wrinkled hand.

Even in his own house, Nurarihyon strives to empty the cabinets with no care for the consequences.

You can't help but smile at the spectacle as the others laugh. The former commander sullenly rubs his hand before greeting you with a smirk.

"Ah. I see the onmyouji girl has decided to grace us with her presence."

Your cheeks warm at his regal tone, and you roll your eyes when he laughs at his own jest. "Hi, Jii-chan," you reply, and you wonder when the familiarity between you became so comfortable. It's almost like you're with your own grandfather and not face-to-face with the youkai you once swore to defeat.

You choose not to think on it too hard. Not on an empty stomach, at least.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Rikuo, why don't you take Yura-chan," Wakana-san treats you with a smile, "to the sitting room for a cup of tea while we finish up in here?"

"Alright." Nura-kun rises from his seat at the counter and reaches out to clasp your hand. You eye it for a moment before taking hold, and just as you retreat into the hall, Wakana-san reappears with a small platter in hand.

"Here are some treats for you to snack on until dinner's ready." And she disappears again with a wave and the clack of the shoji doors.

Nura-kun eyes the tray before turning to you with a shrug. "Mom's a natural-born host."

You nod, remembering the hospitality the woman never failed to provide, no matter how many times you visited. That she can offer such a normal experience in a house full of youkai is amazing.

_But it also makes sense_, you think, glancing at the back of Nura-kun's spiky head. How else could he have grown up to be so kind and well mannered, with a grandfather who made a hobby of stealing into people's homes and eating their food?

Nura-kun slides the door open to a nearby sitting room, where a fresh pot of tea already awaits. With a playful flourish, he ushers you in, and you sit at the kotatsu with an eye roll, tucking your sock-clad feet underneath you. He sits across from you, places a ceramic cup within your reach, and pours the steaming green liquid into its depths. The earthy scent is calming, and you relax completely for the first since entering the manor gates as you take a careful sip, watching as he places the small platter of treats in the center of the table. Courteous as ever, he offers you one before taking one for himself.

"Interesting day today, huh."

You snort as you bite into the sesame-coated ball, and he chuckles before taking a sip of tea. "I can't help but wonder where Kiyotsugu-kun gets his 'leads'."

"His own website apparently." He swipes a finger across the table to remove a stray sesame seed. "He shows it to me now and again. People come in and leave rumors and stories, and we investigate them."

"Sounds reliable," you say, sarcasm tipping your tongue, and this time you smile when he laughs louder.

"Kiyotsugu-kun seems to think they're sound enough to check out. As long as you, Tsurara, and I are there, he shouldn't lead the others into any trouble."

"Mm," you hum in agreement as you chew. Then, with a start, you realize that you've consumed most of the treats on the platter, while Nura-kun is still on his first. Self-consciously, you sip your tea, gaze lowered to the polished wood floor. "Sorry," you mutter, embarrassment lacing your tone.

"Hm?" Nura-kun looks to you in confusion before eyeing the tray, and he grins at the sight. "It's okay. I have these all the time, and Mom'll be happy to know you like them."

His consolation only deepens the blush on your cheeks, but you nod in silent thanks. "They were really good."

"I'm glad." With a tap on his chin, he falls into thought. "I'm sure she would be more than happy to send you home with some."

You shake your head adamantly. "No, it's okay. I don't want to be a burden."

Nura-kun looks at you, gaze questioning. "What do you mean?"

You keep your head low, scratching at a callus on your ring finger. "You've already been more than accommodating. I couldn't accept anything else."

"Ah." His tone is soft, and involuntarily, you look up. A small smile lights his face, and you're surprised to see his eyes crinkled with a bit of humor. "You're afraid you'll wear out your welcome?"

Somehow, his tone makes you feel like you said something silly; your eyebrow ticks. "Something…like that," you answer, tone cautious. "I'm not used to visiting one person's home so often." He smiles wider, nodding.

"I understand." He goes back to his tea, and you blink when the conversation seems over. You start to relax when he speaks. "Don't worry about that while you're here, okay?" You turn to him in surprise, and find his eyes already on you. "We like having you. That's all there is to it." He shrugs casually, but his eyes are sincere.

You're skeptical. These youkai can't appreciate the presence of an onmyouji in their home, no matter our recent past. They can't truly relax knowing you're in their midst.

Nevertheless, Nura-kun seems convinced of his words, even if you aren't, and perhaps that's enough to believe him. Part of you wants to.

You don't get the chance to inquire further. The moment you open your mouth, the shoji slides open with a clack, and Kejourou-san ushers you to the eating hall, her sunny disposition breaking the light tension only you seemed to feel.

Nura-kun walks next to you, cheerfully taking part in her chatter, and you purse your lips in annoyance when he catches your eye with a grin, as if Kejourou-san somehow proves his point. He chuckles when you release a gusty sigh of defeat.

When you arrive at the dining hall, you're seated at the front of the room, which seems a center of relative calmness in the flurry of noise and movement. Eyeing the activity around you, you see Wakana-san expertly hand out bowls of rice to starving youkai and gather your courage before offering to help. Without missing her stride, she shoos your hands away with a titter. "You just enjoy yourself," she announces firmly, and you nod obediently as the room echoes with light laughter.

The meal is delicious, probably better than anything you've had at home. A mother's touch is what you attest it to, something you have little memory of; it almost makes you smile to think that your own mother might have once prepared meals with such care. Taking a happy bite of food, you ignore the curious stares that follow your movements as you crack an egg and mix it into your rice. You're beyond used to it by now, and it's a step up from the open questions the smaller youkai used to bombard you with.

However, even you stop and stare when Nura-kun, looking to you with a smile, reaches curiously for the bowl Wakana-san (ever the host) supplied especially for you, grabs an egg, and in one smooth motion, cracks it into his bowl of rice and mixes it in with his chopsticks. Unflinchingly, he raises a mouthful to his lips and devours it. There is a hushed murmur as he chews and finally swallows, expression thoughtful.

With a lick of his lips, he grins and shrugs. "Pretty good."

You choke.

* * *

Your brothers tease you during your periodic calls home. "Look at our little Yura," they say, "spending time with people her own age!" You take it all with little trouble. They're brothers; what else are they good for except to protect and tease you? But you do wonder at the changes you've made, the _friends_ you've made.

The friends you'll eventually have to leave behind.

You know as soon as the last graduation speech is given, you'll have to return to Kyoto to begin the final steps of your training. Soon, there will be no time for mundane school work, walks to the mall, or 'girl talk,' which you never quite understood.

Soon, there will be time only for exorcisms, meetings, and dusty scrolls illustrating the history of your people.

Once upon a time, that sounded nice. Like paradise, really.

_Now…_

With a laugh, Maki-san grabs your arm and drags you over to the brightly colored plushies littering the walls like drunken soldiers. In the background, you hear the beeps and blips of arcade games, the anguished wails of dying heroes and the triumphant laughter of goblin kings.

You don't know how you ended up here on a Wednesday afternoon. You should be training, studying, doing _something_ productive.

But you find yourself strangely curious when Torii-san calls you from a nearby machine and urges you to try it out; you find yourself strangely intrigued when the screen lights up with neon colors and your fingers grip the plastic joystick; and you find yourself strangely exhilarated when the resounding "YOU WIN!" appears in huge letters, followed by fireworks and virtual confetti. The others cheer for your victory with too much enthusiasm, but you find yourself smiling at the praise and the giant white dog that leaves with you as your prize.

When Nura-kun compares the plush toy to Tanrou, you laugh aloud and hug the dog a little closer.

* * *

…_This is getting ridiculous._

Why are Kiyotsugu-kun and Shima-kun leading you all into some dank cave, its ceiling and floor completely hidden by the darkness? Why is Ienaga-san gripping your arm so tightly, her large eyes darting to and fro like ping-pong balls during a match? Why is there the occasional drip of water against your arm as you head further into the blackness? Why are you all wearing so little that you can even _feel _the occasional drip of water against your arm?

One thing you do know: you shouldn't have agreed to this. There's too much that can become disastrous, from Ienaga-san's hyperventilation to Kiyotsugu-kun's terrible navigation to your own diminishing patience. Even Nura-kun seems less than supportive as he walks next to you, as Oikawa-san does her best to assure him of their safety, all while her voice trembles and her hands grip his arm tightly.

Such is an average day on the beach with the Kiyojuji Paranormal Investigation Squad. Not that you've ever had one before.

When a screeching bat flies over the group in anger, you eye it with sympathy. Ienaga-san screams in your ear and makes a run for it, and the momentum as she pushes off sends you careening into Nura-kun, who reflexively wraps an arm around your shoulders to keep you both upright and standing.

The incident is beyond commonplace, and once you find Ienaga-san again, even further in the darkness than you thought she would go, you return to the bright sunshine and gleaming water. Kiyotsugu-kun's pouting face takes up the group rear.

_What evil spirit_, you silently ask, _would haunt a __**beach**__?_ These 'contributors' to the Squad's website must be slacking.

The rest of the day passes without a hitch; it's highlighted with a game of suikawari, which almost ends in a tragic blow to Shima-kun's head. As Maki-san wrenches the bat from Kiyotsugu-kun's hands and the smashed pieces of watermelon are passed around, you lick the sweet juice from your fingers and listen to the chatter around you, the distant roaring of waves in the background.

It's peaceful. Loud, obnoxious, and peaceful.

When Nura-kun offers you the last piece of fruit, you accept it with easy gratitude. When your fingers brush under the green rind, you don't react, just as you didn't react to his close proximity and his protective arm.

They feel natural, those moments of contact. There are no shivers or thumping heartbeats, no warm cheeks or stunted breath.

There is only familiarity, a faint reminder that the other is there.

Not so long ago, there would be no such thing; you would never allow it. These days, you wouldn't have it any other way.

You don't ask what's changed in the time you've known him. You wouldn't have the answer.

* * *

Two years pass. You don't bother counting the days; they rush by too quickly for you to count. All you know is that each time you fall onto your futon is one more strike against the calendar, one more day here that can't be redone. Every month, you receive a check in the mail for your apartment's expenses and a phone call from your brothers, detailing the goings-on in Kyoto, the reconstruction that's occupied your clan's time for last four years.

_Finish school in Ukiyoe; return home as soon as it ends._ You recite the orders to yourself, sniffing disdainfully as you remember the pointed look on Ryuuji's face as you agreed. Above you, the stars are just beginning to appear, and you turn on your side to watch, tugging your blanket close to ward off the cool breeze.

It's a surprise that they allowed you to come back here at all. You said your reason was training, practice in an environment separate from the one at home, but they knew the truth. You've never been able to fool anyone with your open book of emotions; you don't know why you thought you'd be able to this time.

The truth is, your heart has found a place here, among the suburban neighborhoods and grassy parks, amid the ruckus of the weekly sales at the supermarket, where you fight for supremacy with the local housewives. Against all odds, you have found a home in Ukiyoe Town, within the domain of a youkai you once called your precious friend.

With the sounds of night creatures in your ears and your eyes locked on the waning moon overhead, you recall those words again, and sigh heavily when they still ring true.

* * *

Graduation arrives. There are songs, speeches, and more songs, and the less formal students exclaim their excitement with resounding party poppers and neon streamers. There is an air of anticipation, of promise, of the future, and even you feel it, as your final hours here wind down.

Your hair has grown. It falls towards the middle of your back, and you've implemented a small topknot to distinguish your status as Keikain heir. Most of your classmates believe it to be a fashion statement, perhaps a new trend from Kyoto, and you accept their interpretations without bothering to correct them. The others know its true purpose and congratulate you, joking that you resemble some sort of ancient noble. Nura-kun says the look suits you, and you remember a similar comment he made years ago as he tugged at the long tresses that appeared during your team up against the Gokadoin. The memory hits you with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, as powerful as the arms that surround you as the Paranormal Investigation Squad meets for the last time. They all know it is your last day here; early the following morning you will be boarding a train to Kyoto, where your life will resume, before you entered this school and befriended these dear people.

It is your future, and you accept it willingly, however limited your time now seems.

After the last goodbyes are exchanged, the last embraces are given, and the final bells toll, you exit the school into the bright sunshine, your skirt swirling around your knees, your collar brushing your chin. You breathe the fresh air, heavy with the scent of yesterday's rain, and wave to those who wish you well. You see the silhouettes of Nura-kun's entourage; they are all dressed as human adults, and they surround him with praise for his accomplishment. Wakana-san strokes his hair with loving fingers, and unlike other boys his age, he accepts the tenderness without fuss. Nurarihyon stems away from affection, but his eyes are clearly alight with pride.

You can't help but wonder if, among all of that happiness, they think of the Second Commander, the precious son, husband, father and friend they lost.

You can't help but think of your own parents, your Jii-chan, and how proud they would be of you, how happy they would be _for _you.

"Keikain-san!"

Your thoughts burst at the call of your name, and you turn to see Nura-kun jogging toward you, ever-present glasses still perched on his nose, ever-welcoming smile still alight on his lips. You wonder if you'll miss that familiar sight, that familiar presence at your back.

You shouldn't, but you know you will.

He stops in front of you and pauses before suddenly presenting a small bouquet of colorful flowers. A tiny dash of red brightens his cheeks, but he presents himself confidently, tall and lean and not quite as lanky as he used to be. With curiosity, you accept the bouquet and notice the woven basket attached, filled with Wakana-san's homemade treats.

You don't know how to respond, so you wait.

"Since you're leaving for Kyoto tomorrow and the train ride can be pretty long, I thought you might like some snacks to pass the time." His blush deepens slightly, and you feel a small twitch at your lips. "The flowers are a gift. Y'know, a congratulations for graduating."

Even with his explanation, you don't really know how to respond. You're not used to gifts, let alone those consisting of flowers and sweets, those given to blushing girls from blushing boys.

Still, it's one of the kindest gestures anyone's ever shown you, and somehow, that makes the oddness of it okay. _More than okay._

You smile at the gifts and offer a small 'thank you,' your heart warming at the wide grin that curls his lips.

"You're welcome." You get ready to take your leave, offering a fond wave to the large family standing nearby, who all offer one in return.

Nurarihyon sounds from behind you. "Don't be a stranger, girl."

You smile slightly. _I don't want to be, Jii-chan._

"Keikain-san."

Another call of your name, and this time you're confused as you turn back, carefully adjusting the load in your arms. Before you're prepared, Nura-kun is back before you, and you have to lift your chin to see past the sun glare on his glasses to his eyes. With almost deliberate care, he lifts his arms and wraps them around you, mindful of your compromised balance. The embrace is tender and unassuming and warm, and you can't resist the way your body relaxes in the hold, your eyes lifted to the cloudless sky.

"I'll miss you," he murmurs, and the gentleness of his voice is too much.

His embrace is just like him, and now you know how very much you _will_ miss him, however ridiculous it sounds, however much you wish you could deny it.

With a shift of your gifts to one hand, you lift your other arm to return his hold, fingers splayed between sharp shoulder blades and along the sloping ridges of his spine. You can feel the radiating heat of his body temperature, the sigh of his breath against your neck, and you press closer, just a little bit.

Just this once, you allow yourself to indulge in a friendship you never should treasured this much.

"Mm," is all you can reply with, and you hope it's enough; his answering squeeze tells you it is. Before you lose all composure, you reluctantly pull away, and the smile on his face, all soft curves and sunshine, is tinged with a hint of sadness.

As you once again take your leave, refusing to look back, you know yours is no better.

* * *

By midnight, your apartment is bare of all except your luggage. You wonder how the last three years could have resulted in the same meager belongings you arrived with, but then, you've never been the sentimental type to keep possessions you no longer need.

Lying on your back in the middle of your room, you look to the side and smile, catching sight of your prized plush. _Then again, some things are worth keeping around._

"So this is what the great Keikain does in her spare time."

You swallow a gasp and twist yourself around, hair whipping your face with enough power to sting. In your line of sight stands Nura-kun, his back against the open window, his face half-shrouded in shadow. "I expected something more active."

You scowl darkly, heart pounding against your ribs. "What the hellare you _doing_ here?!"

He smirks, pushing his hands into his sleeves. "Visiting. What else?"

"At one o'clock in the _morning_?" You spread your arms out, indicating the absurdity of his claim.

He looks at you. "Yeah."

_Yeah_, he says, as if the situation is completely normal, as if he regularly visits girls in the dead of night.

You pause, blinking. _And maybe he does. _After a moment of consideration, you release a noisy sigh that ruffles the bangs on your forehead.

_Not my problem._ You battle youkai, not peeping toms with too much time on their hands.

"What do you want?" You watch him step away from the window and examine your room, feet padding softly over the tatami mats. His left his zori by the window, and you roll your eyes. _Too late to be polite._

"I realized I'd never seen your apartment before, so I thought I'd come by before it was too late." He stops at the opening to the tiny kitchen, leaning out to study the cozy space. You follow at a half-hearted pace, and he turns back to you. "Cute place."

You frown in confusion. "You've been here before. You came with the others."

"Only once, and that was hardly a proper visit." He turns back to you, eyes crinkled in amusement. "You didn't even give us a tour."

"There's nothing to see. You've already walked through most of it." You leave him to his snooping and return to your place on the floor, flopping onto your back, eyes closed. "When are you leaving?"

"So eager to get rid of me?" His voice sounds above you, and you look up to see him crouched over you, eyes gleaming with jest.

You don't waste time. "Yes." He chuckles at your quick answer.

"What time does your train leave?" This time he sounds to the side, and you hear the rustle of his kimono as he seats himself beside you.

"Early," you mumble, throwing an arm over your face. You don't know why they want you back so early in the day, but you're dreading the trip.

"Ah."

The apartment falls into silence; in the quiet, you question how long he plans on staying. You already said your goodbyes that afternoon, and you hate the idea of prolonging the inevitable. There are too many ties here already, too many things that make you want to stay.

"You're not planning to forget this place, are you?"

Surprised, you lower your arm, regarding the boy beside you. He looks ahead, eyes glowing yellow in the darkness, face blank before he meets your gaze. "You seem like the type to burn bridges, as if you don't care." He smiles knowingly. "The truth is you care too much."

Your lips purse. "What?"

"Because you're afraid to get too attached, you go out of your way to cut ties with everything you'll miss." He chuckles. "It's easy to see."

You look at him dryly. He sounds like your brother. _Damn youkai._ "What's your point?"

In the darkness, the glow of his eyes suddenly gains intensity. "Don't be so quick to forget us."

Refusing to be cowed, you huff through your nose. "As if I could." The words are just loud enough to hear, and his smile widens.

"Tsun-tsun to the end, huh? That's fine." You watch as he rises to his feet, reaching into his sleeve to remove a small piece of paper. He holds it out, and as you reach for it, suspicion in your gut, you can already read a familiar series of numbers neatly written in pen. You clasp the sheet in your hand and look up at him. "In case you misplaced it," he explains, and you roll your eyes and drop the paper carelessly to the ground, heedless of where it lands. You place your arm back over your face.

"I don't want it." Your tone tells him to leave, and you don't bother to see him out. You stay sprawled on the floor, listening to the subtle hum of electricity, and start when a hand rests on your head, gently shuffling through your bangs before patting gently. You scrunch your brow and swat at it, grumbling at him to keep his _damn_ hands to himself, and he chuckles again.

"Until next time, Yura."

"Not if I can help it." You feel a brief displacement of air above you; the next time you open your eyes, you're alone. Blinking away sleep, you reach for the abandoned piece of paper and study the number written. It's different from the numbers he gave you a few years ago; beneath the familiar script, it reads 'cell', and you realize that it's the number to his personal line.

You shake your head and sit up, scooting over to your luggage placed by the door. Folding it, you tuck the sheet into the basket he gave you and lean your head against the wall, gaze drawn to the now-closed window.

Against your will, your lips curve up.

_Until next time._


	2. Said We Would Meet and Part

**A/N**: Part II is here, and it's posted, and I'm tired, and…yeah. Enjoy, everyone, and thank you for your support! Feedback is always appreciated!

**Disclaimer**: I should only have to do one of these, right? Oh well. I do not own _Nurarihyon no Mago_, its characters, or its elements. I only tamper with them in this story, which _is_ mine.

**Revised on July 2, 2013.**

* * *

Empty.

You don't know why you're here again. Perhaps you're feeling strangely nostalgic, perhaps you're simply passing the time. Or perhaps you're looking for something.

If you are, it's not here. The apartment is bare, completely devoid of the personal touches that marked a person's living here. Not that there were many personal touches to begin with.

Regardless, there's nothing, no trace of the onmyouji girl with the dark, vapid eyes. Even her scent, the one thing that should still be present, is almost nonexistent.

_Like she was never here_.

But then, she _would _try to erase herself, you joke, a smirk marking your lips as you roam the small space, bare feet curling against the tatami mats where she sprawled two nights before, doing her utmost to ignore your intrusion. As an onmyouji, she would ensure that no one would be able to track her, follow her aura or her scent to the train station, and from there to Kyoto.

Maybe that's why you're here, to review her handiwork and take the same precautions. Just because she isn't in your territory anymore doesn't mean she's exempt from your vigilance.

At the very least, that frame of reasoning keeps you from looking _too_ much like a sap.

You may miss the little tsun-tsun weirdo, odd as that is, but you don't have to go out of your way to show it.

* * *

One week after your reconnaissance, you meet with your tight-knit group at a small local spot known for its good street food. As you all come together, discussing jobs and college prospects, the change is almost palpable. Kiyotsugu's youkai ramblings are slightly less enthused, and the rest of you provide even less than the joking, half-hearted replies you usually use to appease him.

At one point, Kana pipes up with a small half-smile. "It's…weird, isn't it?" That breaks the collective thoughts swirling between you, and you all lean back in your seats, nodding in agreement.

There is someone missing, each of you wants to say. Someone gone who should be here, sitting among you, sharing in this.

"Seriously, this isn't working," Kiyotsugu pipes up, upending the two front legs of his chair. "Yura-kun was the only one who shared my passion for youkai. Who do I learn awesome onmyou techniques from _now_?!"

"They weren't techniques, Kiyotsugu, they were charms to ward off evil spirits. She gave 'em to all of us." Maki shakes her wrist in emphasis, the bracelet circling it tinkling with her movements.

"You think she'll visit?" Torii pops into the conversation before Kiyotsugu can argue, her brows knit together in concern. "With all the stuff she has to do before she becomes the new head of her family, I wonder if she'll have the time."

"Probably not." Shima sucks at his straw. "Even after she becomes leader, won't she have a bunch of…I don't know, 'leader' stuff to do?" He looks to you, asking for confirmation.

You nod. "I would imagine so. Being head has its own set of responsibilities that often take priority over most else." You sigh. You know that only too well. "Chances are Keikain-san won't have time to travel miles away from Kyoto just to visit friends."

They may not be clan leaders, but you know the others are in similar positions. Your earlier topics of entrance exams and money-earnings prove the fact that your visiting Yura would be equally unlikely.

They seem to reach the same conclusion, and you all slump further in your seats, faces mirroring the same glumness.

"Being an adult _sucks_," Shima mutters, and you all grunt in agreement.

"Well I'm sick of sitting here." Everyone jumps when Maki's hand loudly slaps the plastic table as she rises from her seat. "I don't know about you guys, but this lunch just got _way_ too depressing for me. Let's go to the arcade and lighten up a bit, eh?"

You all laugh gratefully at her remedy for the glum mood, but it fails to erase it completely. Underneath the humor, there's an underlying question of uncertainty.

How long until your gatherings feel normal again? How long until another one of you has to go, leaving another empty space behind?

How long do you have until your lives call you in separate directions and you're forced to part?

As the sun lowers over the horizon, you part ways with Kana at the crosswalk, having already split from the others at their given sections of town. Against the spring breeze, she clasps her hands at her back and kicks at a stray rock. You get her attention.

"You alright, Kana-chan?" She looks up at you, nodding vigorously.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…" she smiles a little. "Today _was _weird, wasn't it?"

You run a hand through your hair. "Yeah, it was."

"I mean…sometimes I forget that Yura-chan wasn't always around, y'know? The rest of us have known each other since we were toddlers; it's strange to think that we only met _her_ in middle school."

Her words surprise you. She's right. You yourself had forgotten that particular detail.

_It feels like Keikain-san's always been here._

Your brow furrows in thought, and you don't reply out loud until Kana pokes you in the forehead. "Are you listening to me?" She giggles, and you grin sheepishly.

"Yeah. I'm just thinking that you're right. I think everyone forgot that Keikain-san hadn't always been with us."

Kana nods, rocking slightly on her feet and tucking a brown lock of hair behind her ear. She looks at you, wide eyes thoughtful, before smiling. "I miss her."

You place a hand on her shoulder in comfort and understanding, remembering the emptiness of that apartment. "Me, too."

* * *

That night, you sit in your tree, watching the moon through the fragrant branches.

_This is sad._ Without your realizing, that onmyouji girl somehow wriggled her way under your skin and made a place for herself there. And now that place is like an itch, a tiny prickle that makes itself known just when you think it's finally passed.

You remind yourself that she's been gone before. Seven months passed after the war with Hagoromo-Gitsune before you saw one another again, and one more year went by after Seimei's defeat.

Everything was fine during those periods. Her absence was felt, yes, but you were sure the distance would be temporary. There was never a doubt that you'd cross paths again, sooner or later.

Somehow, this time feels differently. This time, she has an entire new set of responsibilities that will take precedence over everything else. This time, there is no crisis to bring her back, no common enemy to push you together. And that bothers you.

The night before she left, you visited her apartment. She seemed nonchalant as usual, almost vehement in her desire to get rid of you. The exchange was beyond normal. Too normal, you suspected. Sometimes, it seemed like she was using your usual game of cats and dogs to hide herself.

She had said goodbye to your human self easily enough, had had little trouble returning your embrace, however stiff she was before she finally relaxed. And you had to wonder if she would finally offer the same genuine compassion to the other you, the one she was always so quick to dismiss.

It gladdened you, more than you care to think about, when she finally broke down and accepted your being there, and even went so far as to openly admit that yes, she _did_ care, in her own subtle, reluctant language. It made you think that maybe she felt the encroaching distance as keenly as you did, that perhaps she, too, wanted her remaining time to last a little longer.

You offered what you could, something separate from the embrace that had felt too final. "_Until next time_," you said, with all the confidence of a commander, with all the self-assuredness of a master of spirits who could warp the world at his whim. And you believed yourself. You knew that, behind the rough hands and the pursed lips and the heated glares, she wanted to believe you, wanted to maintain the bridges connecting you.

And now here you are, two weeks into her absence, and neither of you has done anything.

You smile to yourself, reaching into your kimono to pull out your old man's favorite pipe. With a light and a puff, smoke drifts into the sky, curling around the branches overhead to reach the stars.

_Tsun-tsun weirdo_, you think, your next challenge set as you lean back to comfortably stretch your limbs. _But then, I'm not much better, am I?_

* * *

On the morning of an April Saturday, three weeks after her departure, you decide to take the initiative and reach out. Opening the shoji to greet the day, you grab your phone, dial a number, and listen to the ring as it connects you to Kyoto.

"Keikain residence."

"Uh, hello," you begin, clearing your throat when it scratches with sleep. "If it's possible, I'd like to speak to Keikain Yura."

"May I ask who is calling?"

"Nura Rikuo. I'm a friend."

"One moment. I'll see if she's available."

"Thank you." As you wait, the morning sunshine intensifies, and you shake your head amusedly as the manor creaks with the echoing groans of youkai fraught with hunger and hangover. Against the backdrop of birdsong, Tsurara hums to herself as she hangs laundry on the clotheslines.

"Nura-san?"

You jump to attention. "Yes?"

"I'll be connecting you to the Main House's personal line. If you wait a moment, Keikain-sama should answer."

Your smile widens at the man's address. _Guess they've already gotten used to the idea of having her in charge_. "Alright. Thank you."

"Have a good day."

"You, t-"

Before you can finish, the line dies and the dial tone returns, and you wait, unexpectedly anxious for a voice you haven't heard in weeks. For a silly moment, you wonder if she'll sound differently, if you'll recognize her when she answers.

"Hello? Keikain Yura speaking."

That's all it takes. Immediately, your apprehension diminishes like fog at noon, and you're left feeling like nothing has truly changed, not your school days, not her place of residence, not the distance that's now between you. "Keikain-san."

There's a pause, then, "Nura-kun?"

Your grin is wide and bright, and a laugh almost escapes your lips as you listen to her light splutter.

"How did you get this number?"

"Hidemoto-san left it with Grandpa."

"What?! _When?!_"

You allow a small chuckle to escape. "A few weeks before you left, I think. He didn't tell you?"

Over the line, you hear a long-suffering sigh. "He doesn't tell me _anything_, too busy going off and doing whatever he wants. Half the time I don't even know where he is until he's already passed through like a frickin' typhoon."

You grin, grateful for the man's intervention on your behalf. "I'm sure he thought he was doing you a favor."

"Maybe," she says unconvincingly; you hear the annoyance and smile at the familiarity of it. "It _is_ nice to hear from you, though."

"You thought I'd forget you just because you weren't here anymore?"

"Ah-" There's a pause, and you smile warmly when she finally answers. "No, I didn't. I'm just...surprised, I guess."

"Everyone misses you. We met up a couple weeks ago, and it felt weird, you know? 'Cause you weren't there."

"Really?" You hear the disbelief in her tone and chuckle.

"Of course. Our resident onmyouji's gone missing. It's bound to be noticed." _Don't think you're so forgettable._

"Yeah..." She trails off, leaving the topic open-ended. "So, how is everything?"

You blink at her obvious avoidance but decide to go along with her. "Uh, great. Everyone's doing really well. What about you? How's your training coming along?"

"There's not much to say. It's going." A gust of air sounds through the line, and you imagine her blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "Ryuuji-nii-chan is insisting I memorize every scroll we have in our storerooms by the end of the month, and Akifusa-nii-chan is trying to convince him to give me a break. In a nutshell, it's the same crap that's been going on since you saw them last. Anything new going on there?"

You go through a quick rundown of recent events, falling back on your unmade futon. "Not really, it's pretty quiet. Since school ended, it's been meetings and patrols and not much else." You stop in pondering. "Though…" You consider revealing your recent predicament, believing that she'll be able to empathize and perhaps offer some insight. "I have been thinking about college."

"Really? That's great."

You blink at her quick response. "You think so?" So far, only your mother and Tsurara know of your desire to attend a university, as you're reluctant to speak of it with your grandfather and the council. In such a potentially sticky situation, it's encouraging, having another's support.

"Sure. But would you have the time?"

"I would probably go part-time so I could still handle my duties to the clan without too much interference between the two. But I'm still not sure if it'll happen."

"You should do it." The inflection leaves little room for argument, and you smile somewhat teasingly, waving as Kejourou blows you a kiss as she passes by your room.

"College applications are better than youkai, right?"

A small scoff. "It's not that. I just think you would fit in pretty well at a university."

Your cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. "So would you. Have you considered college?"

"No. Any education past grade school is useless here. From now on, my classroom is in our archives, and my ancestors are the professors."

"You could take classes in mythology and folklore." In your mind's eye, you can see her rolling her eyes at your insistence. But you feel the desire to put the idea in her head, at least as food for thought. _Neither of us should have to give up everything for our clans' sakes. We're not __**just**__ leaders, after all._

After a moment, she answers. "I'll consider it," she allows, and you nod to the empty air, satisfied.

"Good. In the meantime, I'll walk the campus for both of us." She doesn't get the chance to respond to your joke; in the background, there's a sudden commotion as another voice comes across the line, distant and muffled. Yura's tone quickly loses its pleasantness, and you blink as she argues with her unknown assailant before coming back to the phone. "Sorry, Nura-kun. I have to go."

"Oh." You deflate slightly, trying to hide your disappointment. "Okay."

"A family across town needs an exorcism, and I still have to get ready."

You shake your head. "It's alright." You should have known the risk of calling so unexpectedly, without a set plan or any kind of warning, just an impulse. "Mornings there sound pretty busy."

"Everyone runs around at daybreak preparing for cases, but it usually quiets down by the afternoon."

"Ah. It's the opposite here. Everyone-"

"Suffers through their morning hangovers before starting the party again at noon?"

You can't help but laugh at the sureness in her tone. "I forgot how much time you spent here."

There's a smirk in her voice. "Even if I hadn't, it's not exactly hard to guess." She pauses, then continues. "Thanks for letting me know. About the others, I mean. It was nice hearing about them."

Warmth travels through your chest at the slight embarrassment in her voice. "You're welcome. Anytime you want to talk, we're here."

"Yeah." Another few seconds pass in silence, and you open your mouth to speak when she beats you to it. "You'll keep me updated on your college plans, right?"

Her request surprises you, but you readily agree, happy with her interest. "Of course." She seems satisfied with your agreement and sounds a goodbye, and you wish her well. When the line goes dead, you slowly place the phone back on the floor next to your pillow and ponder the words exchanged. Eventually, when the brightening day can no longer be ignored, you rise from your futon, stretching your limbs before tackling the sheets, a smile on your lips and certainty in your movements.

You reached out. On a morning whim, you took a step forward and trusted her to do the same. And she did.

Your smile widens.

* * *

Two weeks later, you follow up on your first contact and call again, just as the sun lowers over the horizon. As the dial tone sounds, your hair lengthens, your skin pales, and a smirk envelops your lips as the line connects to the Keikain main house.

"Keikain residence, Yura speaking."

"Yo, Yura."

_Click._

The line goes dead. Bewildered, you take the phone from your ear and eye its earpiece before hanging up and redialing. Eye twitching in irritation, you open your mouth to tell the girl off when her voice fills your ear.

"What took you?" Her tone is smug and self-satisfied. You don't openly admit it, but hidden beneath the displeasure at her treatment is a keen delight, and you can't stop it from creeping into your voice as you answer.

"Well done, Yura-chan."

Your opponent is back; she has just landed the first blow.

And so it begins anew.

* * *

Every couple of weeks, sometimes sooner, sometimes later, you pick up the phone to exchange the carryings-on of your life with the girl from Kyoto. You always transfer her side of the conversation to the others, who eventually grow tired of your position as intermediary and demand the number to the Main House. From that point on, you sometimes find yourself fielding calls and sharing phone time with any combination of your friends, leading to a number of comical interactions.

However, as the weeks and months pass, you gradually become Yura's main connection to the activities of Ukiyoe Town. Slowly, each of your former club mates receives his or her acceptance letter or phone call to a new job, and the time they have to talk slowly dwindles to a trickle. They all feel guilty at the intrusion of their adult lives, but Yura never places any blame on them; if anything, she encourages their growth, and makes sure to keep their stock of exorcist charms plentiful as they disperse to the parts of Japan neither you nor she have much control over.

"I'm proud of them," she says to you one night, her words warm and genuine. "It's great that they can lead normal lives, with everything they've had to go through."

"What do you mean?" You ask the question, but you know exactly what she speaks of.

"I was worried that we might've messed them up somehow, with the dangers they were caught up in. They shouldn't have had to deal with youkai, onmyouji, and the crap that comes with us." You hear her sigh over the line, and the noise makes you realize that she's doing her best to explain herself. "I guess I'm just relieved. It's not like we put them in danger on purpose, but it's still good to know we didn't mess them up or anything."

You chuckle. It's strange to hear your exact same thoughts and fears outlined to you through another. You had often been plagued with the same worries, that maybe you should have tried harder to keep your secret under wraps, to prevent your personal wars from spilling onto the city streets and endangering those you held closest.

"Then again…" Yura continues, and you tune into her words. "With the way Kiyotsugu-kun kept throwing everyone into those damn missions, maybe it was a good thing we were there to watch out for everyone. I don't want to think what would have happened if he had been their sole protector."

You snort out a laugh. "He could always repeat that stunt he pulled during middle school elections."

"Please, I'm _still_ trying to piece all of that together." She sounds exasperated, but you hear the humor in her tone, softening her voice into something fonder.

When you eye the location of the moon, you smirk. "What do you know, Yura; it seems we've talked the night away."

"No kidding? Good thing I'm just in the archives tomorrow."

"Oh? No house calls?"

"Not yet. I'm sure something will come up; if not, Nii-chan will probably take me on another 'training mission'." Her tone abruptly shifts into dark territory, and you laugh aloud, imagining her knitted brow.

"Sounds like hell."

"Believe me, it is." With that, she hangs up, leaving you to smile and tuck the phone against your side on your branch. It's only when you've poured a cup of sake and downed the first half that you realize it.

She confided in you. It doesn't happen often; you need less than a hand to count the number of times it's taken place, and you don't need one at all for the times it's occurred while the sky was dark.

You stare into the depths of your sakazuki, its liquid surface a rippling mirror of your curving lips and glowing eyes, before you tip your head back to drink the rest.

Ironic, you think, that the event marks the last time you talked face-to-face, one year almost to the day.

_I'll be damned._

* * *

"Rikuo!"

A shout, and you gaze from your perch among the cherry blossoms to see your grandfather standing below, a smirk framing his face and an envelope clutched in his hand. Hopping down, you frown as he steals his precious pipe from your fingers in exchange for the mail, and you study it with curiosity, raising an eyebrow when the old man doesn't elaborate.

"What's this?"

"An invitation." He grins. "You should be honored."

Interest piqued, you tear into the quality parchment and unfold the letter within. As you scan the contents, your breath catches in surprise, and you lift your head to lock eyes with your grandfather, who nods in confirmation.

"She did it."

What emotion consumes you then, as you read the invitation to Yura's succession, as you recall the two years' worth of words you shared with her, the exhaustion that would sometimes seize hold of her voice as she gave you a summary of the day?

When you again meet your grandfather's gaze, you know what that emotion is. It's reflected in his eyes, too.

Pride.

* * *

Against the early evening sky, the compound is pristine, its walls washed and polished, the lawns green and manicured. From a bird's eye view, it's majestic, but as you place one foot inside the towering gate to the Keikain estate, you're also struck by its mysticism, so different from the cloak of magic that covers your own territory.

"It seems they've put themselves back together nicely," your grandfather hums, eyes keen as you both scan the large area. The last time you were here, these buildings were crumbling, the people inside them spread thin and growing thinner as their numbers dwindled. But you don't see any of that here in the stillness. There's an aura of _something_, but it's not at all the acute disquiet that you remember sensing the last time you were here, so similar to the airs that shadowed your home when the clan's future seemed so uncertain.

The old man is right. This is a place of power.

"Nura-san!" An onmyouji approaches, and you wait as he catches his breath before pointing to a building some yards away. "The proceedings will take place there. Your seats are already designated."

You nod in thanks and set off, a strong anticipation bubbling in your gut.

What will you be witness to tonight, as your friend takes her place among the stars?

The room is enormous, its entire length covered with the linear paths of cushions and their honored occupants. Towards the center are two cushions clearly vacant, and you and the old man seat yourselves, taking note of those around you. The murmurs resounding off the far walls rise in volume, and you feel the eyes of so many on your person, wary of your presence here.

Allies of the family were welcome to their ceremonies, but no one believed a _youkai_ would ever fall into that privileged circle.

You like it.

Soon the room quiets, and everyone turns their attention to the front, where a small procession has emerged from the shadows. They seat themselves to either side of the center dais, and you recognize the faces of Yura's brothers and Hidemoto, who spares you a small clever smile and a nod as you catch eyes.

Finally, she appears against the backdrop of evening light, solid and sure-footed, and you're stunned to see a girl so different from the one in your memories. The pure white robes she wears do not engulf her figure as so many clothes used to, and the black cascade of hair down her back is reminiscent of the form she took in battle so long ago. The remembrance no longer does it, or her, justice.

This woman is strangely unfamiliar, and you're uncertain for how to react.

In your periphery, the old man smirks.

As a priest appears to stand before her, Yura bows her head and allows his wrinkled hand to rest on her purified brow; soon, the room echoes with his wizened prayers as he sanctifies her as the 28th head. As he sprinkles cleansing water onto her forehead, you scan the faces of the others, and you're surprised to see approval on even Ryuuji's face as he watches from the front.

_Ah_, you realize, watching the proceedings with unblinking eyes, _**that's**__ where it's coming from._ The electrified air that encased your steps as you entered the massive gates; it all comes to a focal point that's centered at Yura's kneeling figure. _It's their faith in her that fills this place with power._

As the invocations fade, the priest is handed the designated headdress of the onmyouji, identical to Hidemoto's, and he raises it above him, his billowing sleeves shielding most from sight.

"May the gods grant you the power to protect, the wisdom to lead, and the courage to be true not only to your clan, but to yourself."

With reverence, he places the tall headdress on the crown of Yura's bowed head and steps away to reveal her to the crowd.

"I present to you the 28th head of the Keikain family, Keikain Yura!"

In perfect unison, the crowd bows, their heads brushing the polished wood of the floor in veneration and their mouths moving in silent, private prayers. Yura rises to her feet and faces the mass, her head high and her bearing confident. When she subtly sweeps the many persons present, her gaze finally meets yours.

You offer a respectful nod and a roguish wink for her benefit, and amidst the solemn formality of the event, her dark eyes spark in confrontation before breaking contact.

You smirk. So the girl you know is still there, poised amid the fancy tassels and title. Like the hands of time spinning backward, you're both back, as if those two-year-old goodbyes were never spoken.

_Until next time_, you said. And you meant it.

* * *

As attendees file out into the night, you nonchalantly round the corner to a pavilion located closer to the edge of the grounds. There, you see the preparations already nearing their conclusion, and grin as Aotabo passes by, large crates of sake balanced in his massive arms.

"Rikuo-sama!" Kubinashi approaches from the crowd, his face lined with apprehension. "Are you sure about this? I doubt they'll receive us well, despite your good intentions."

Your grin widens. "Faith, Kubinashi. As the festivities begin, I'm sure they'll calm down enough to enjoy themselves, especially if they know it's for their new leader."

The string master sighs in resignation, accepting your reassurance with slight trepidation. "If you're certain…" With that, he turns to shout a command. "Aotabo, set those crates up against the wall near the tables! We need to start laying everything out!"

Before your eyes, the large gardens of the Keikain estate is transformed. Braziers line the walkways, dotting the landscape with light, and against the sounds of preparation, you can hear the tuning of instruments, smell the roasting of foodstuffs and the pouring of quality sake, straight from your own stock supply.

Weeks of careful planning, all to pay off at the strike of a chord.

The commotion begins drawing attention, and your grandfather laughs as onmyouji begin pouring from the various buildings, looks of confusion and irritation morphing into those of shock. You try to ignore them, intent on ensuring your success, but eventually, you're forced to acknowledge the ever-growing crowd, the shouts of alarm that rise like a tide and crash on your preparations.

"What is the Nura Clan doing here?"

"How did they make it inside without our noticing?"

"Where'd all this _stuff_ come from?!"

You drown out their inquiries, listening intently for one voice amongst the rest.

"What the hell's going on here?"

…_Not the one I was expecting, but it'll do._

Ryuuji charges through the ranks of gathered onmyouji, his formal robes billowing in his haste, and he stops only feet away to survey the scene with a nasty scowl. Mamiru, blank-faced as always, appears at his side, silently sizing up the youkai present.

_Now things are interesting._ The grin stays on your face.

"Ryuuji. A pleasure as always."

The older man faces you, brows furrowed in irritation. "Nura. I should have known you had something to do with this. Two years and you're still an annoying brat."

You give him a self-righteous smirk. "Guilty."

"What's with all the shit you're bringing in here?"

"It's a celebration," you reply, and he narrows his eyes in question before frowning deeply.

"I told Yura it was okay for her to invite you here, however stupid the request was. But I didn't say anything about a horde of youkai tramping in here and stinking up these grounds." His brow furrows. "What did the letter that dumbass sent you say?"

_Same Ryuuji._ Yura was right on that count. Her brother had the same stick up his ass he always did. Luckily, you're saved from explanation when one more figure cuts through the crowd. You smile widely.

"Yo, Yura."

Her eyes are large with surprise at the scene before her, and she takes a moment to absorb everything before bringing her focus to you.

"Nura-ku-"

"Yura, what kind of shitty invitation did you send this guy?" Ryuuji cuts in before she can speak, and she shifts her attention to him.

"What are you talking about?"

"The letter you sent him." His tone is patronizing, as if he's speaking to a child. Yura thins her lips in annoyance. "What did it say?"

"Nothing! It was an invitation. What do you expect it to say?"

You shrug and turn to older man. "It requested my presence to celebrate her succession." You smirk as Yura nods her head in determined agreement.

"That's right, that's exactly what it sai-" She stops abruptly, and you watch her brow furrow before she rounds on you. "What?! That's not what I wrote!"

Your eyebrow lifts. "Yes, it is."

"I invited you to _attend _the ceremony. I didn't say _anything_ about a celebration!"

You look to the side, silently surveying the party preparations and mentally nodding to yourself at the quick progression. You turn back to the group. "Isn't it implied?"

"No!"

Ryuuji lets out a noisy breath. "Should've known you would screw up such a simple task, Yura. What little brain you have always seems lost on this guy." Yura sputters at the accusation, but he ignores her in favor of giving you a hostile glance. "I don't have the patience to deal with you right now. Just know that any damage you do goes on your tab. And you can bet your ass I'll make you pay." You answer his threat with a cocky grin and a two-fingered salute, and he snorts before briefly acknowledging his sister's angry face. "Any of our food your 'guests' eat gets taken from your meals, Yura."

"_What?!_" Yura yells after his retreating figure.

"Ryuuji." Mamiru calls after him. "Do I destroy the youkai?" You lift your brow higher.

"Leave them, Mamiru. Your job is watch the dumbass. Just because she's the new head doesn't mean she's smart enough not to make a fool of herself."

The blatant insult doesn't surprise you. _Forget about things being the same. I feel like I'm thirteen again._ It doesn't help that Yura's face is locked in the same raging scowl she used to whip out to deflect her brother's abuse. It de-ages her as well, makes the years seem nonexistent, even with her extravagant new title and the clean-cut robes designating her raised status.

You speak to regain her attention. "So when do we start the party?"

She looks at you in disbelief. "There _is_ no party."

"Then what's all this?" You jerk a thumb over your shoulder and wave when a group of your youkai pass through your line of sight, carrying various plates of foods.

"Idiot! You tell _me_!" In a frustrated huff, she crosses her arms under her chest and glares up at you; you tilt your head in response, feigning ignorance, and she narrows her eyes.

"There's no party."

"Yura-"

"No," she says, cutting you off, and you blink at her serious tone. "There's _no party_. You did all this without my permission, Nura-kun, and it's not okay. Tell them to pack up their stuff."

A frown creases your face, though part of you is intrigued. "You're sending me away? That's a first."

She returns your look. "I've sent you away before."

You shrug. "But you've never meant it."

"Yes, I have! You were just too _dense_ to realize it!" The tap of her agitated foot sounds on the cobblestones. "I mean it, Nura-kun. The ceremony's over, and there's no reason for you to stay."

Your mouth opens to retort when another figure makes itself known. "Well done, Yura-chan!"

You both turn toward the familiar voice, finally taking notice of the small crowd that has formed around you as the minutes passed and the argument escalated. Almost in unison, they too turn to the voice as well, and a path opens as Hidemoto walks through, your old man at his side. "That commanding tone is exactly what you need to get people listening." The old onmyouji places a hand on Yura's head and pats it affectionately, and Yura's cheeks puff out in annoyance. "Wasn't that a brilliant performance, Rikuo-chan?"

You give the man a grin and nod. "I almost took her seriously."

"I _was_ serious!" Yura whirls on Hidemoto, ignoring the smile he gives her. "Help me out, Hidemoto. Tell Nura-kun he can't throw a party here."

Her mentor blinks down at her, and your smirk grows. "Why shouldn't he be able to? It's for you, isn't it?" At his casual reply, Yura's eye twitches.

"That's not the point! This was a formal event. A party is against protocol!"

Your grandfather cuts in. "With your new position, Yura, it's only against protocol if you say it is."

"Ah-" Whatever she plans to retaliate with, it's interrupted as Yura pauses thoughtfully, her eyes lowering to the ground in contemplation.

"Have a heart, Yura-chan. It's been ages since I attended a Nura Clan celebration." Hidemoto pleads with her, his gaze turning to you. "Are your revelries as festive as your grandfather's, Rikuo-chan?"

You grin proudly. "Of course. It's a family tradition." Your old man lets out a bellow of laughter.

"We'll see how good he does! My gatherings were of national merit, even before I became the Lord of Pandemonium. Isn't that right, Karasu-Tengu?!"

The old crow hears his call over the roar of activity as he checks over a list. "Yes, Soutaichou's get-togethers were legendary!" He flies over to land on his shoulder. "In inheriting his position as commander, Rikuo-sama, you have also inherited his reputation as a first-rate host. May your celebration tonight do the clan proud!"

You release a small sigh. "We won't know until someone makes a decision." You bring your attention back to the still-thinking woman, and rap a gentle knuckle against her forehead. "Oi, you done yet?"

"Ow! Don't touch me!" She smacks your hand away easily and crosses her arms.

"What do you wish us to do, Keikain-sama?" One onmyouji asks the overall question, and Yura brings her gaze to you; you receive her with a determined grin. Seeming to search your eyes for a moment, she finally lets out a heavy, resigned breath.

"…Leave them be."

That's all you need to hear. With a wink, you lift your hand, give a resounding _snap_ of your fingers, and-

_**BOOOOOM!**_

The grounds explode.

Music blasts from the direction of the band's set-up area, and you laugh as the onmyouji cover their ears in shouts of panic at the same moment your youkai let out a cheer. The old man roars a laugh, and Hidemoto claps his hands in excitement.

"_What the __**hell**_?!" Somehow, you hear Yura's yell over the music and lean closer to listen.

"What's wrong?!" Even inches apart, you still have to speak loudly.

"Why is it so frickin' _loud_?!" Her hands are still clapped over her ears, and you chuckle and pull them away.

"What did you expect?" You grin widely. "Having fun?"

She turns a scathing glare at you. "How the _hell_ are bleeding eardrums supposed to be _fun_?!" You chuckle at the exaggeration.

"You'll get used to it." A raucous shout of your name has you looking over to a group of youkai calling you over to the festivities, and you acknowledge them before turning back to the woman next to you. "It's your party, Yura! Just relax!" With that, you saunter off, leaving her sputtering behind you.

"Wait! Where are you going?!" You look over your shoulder questioningly, and smile to yourself when you see her caught in a torrent of shock, anger, and helplessness. A twinge of sympathy enters you, and you make your way back to her, leaning down to see into her eyes.

"You want me to stay with you?" Your lips stretch in a cocky grin, and you laugh when she immediately flushes red with ire and forcefully pushes you away.

"I'm _fine_! Have fun destroying my house!" You watch, amused, as she stalks away with stomping steps, her shoulders hunched in irritation, her back rigid.

_Just as tsun-tsun as the night we met._ It's not a complaint. A piece of you questioned if you would be reuniting with a different person today, a friend unrecognizable from both the classmate and the voice you heard over the phone. The fact that you both fell so easily into the patterns of the past is a reassurance you didn't know you were looking for.

_Still_, you think, _there __**is**__ a difference._ You see it as you watch her walk away, her irritated steps failing to mask the features you first noticed during the ceremony.

You don't know what you were expecting. Apparently, over the two years of phone calls, you kept the image of the high school girl you saw last: short, thin, and athletic. And while all of those qualities still hold true (you smirk at the memory of leaning down to properly see her face), there is also a tweak to her form, a subtle reminder that she isn't quite the skinny girl you remember.

It's something to think about as you turn and join in the celebrations around you.

* * *

The festivities are well under way. For the last hour, the Keikain estate has been a bedlam of music and merriment, punctuated by a mixed chatter even you did not anticipate to this extent.

Having heard Yura's approval of the circumstances, the onmyouji have cautiously intermingled themselves in your group of merry-making youkai.

"Nothing like a draught of good sake to tear down barriers and warm iced hearts," your grandfather once recited to you, and only now do you understand what he meant. With their stomachs heated by the alcohol, even the onmyouji had begun to relax and somewhat enjoy themselves.

A great feat for you, if only for the one remaining heart that refused to melt.

Tossing back a cup of sake, you once again rest your gaze on the lone figure sitting in the shade of one of the garden trees, her arms stiff under her chest, her expression still registering a semblance of shell shock underneath the obvious irritation. She hasn't moved an inch since she found the spot an hour ago.

Perhaps, in your extended time apart, you forgot how downright _pigheaded_ the girl could be. Some stupid part of you thought she would eventually loosen enough to attempt to have a good time.

You were painfully mistaken.

With a determined breath, you set your drink aside and rise to your feet, the cushion beneath breathing with your movements. Those you sit with, Kurotabo, Aotabo, Kubinashi, the old man and Hidemoto, among others, all look to you expectantly, and Akifusa offers you an encouraging smile. How he blended with the crowd, you don't know.

"Yura's just overwhelmed in all the excitement, Rikuo. I'm sure if you try hard enough, she'll come around."

_Easier said than done._ You still nod and cross the gardens, dodging energetic feet and food-filled hands to reach your destination. Yura sits a few yards away, still statuesque. Despite her lack of acknowledgement, it's clear she senses you, and you lazily plop into the empty spot next to her, crossing your legs and leaning back on your hands.

"What's wrong, Yura?"

She barely spares you a glance out of the corner of her narrowed eyes. "Leave. Me. _Alone_."

You smirk and look ahead to the moving crowd. "Your exorcists are having a good time. Why can't you?"

She doesn't bother to answer, so you continue unhindered, remembering a detail that might interest her. "You know, this wasn't just my idea. Kana-chan and the others helped with the initial setup."

You see her react out of the corner of your eye and smile victoriously when she reluctantly glances at you again. "…really?" At her skepticism, you nod in confirmation.

"We got together at my place and spent three hours building a plan." You look to her. "They felt bad about not being able to make it here."

For the first time that evening (and really, the first time in two years), you see her lips quirk in a small smile. "I heard. Ienaga-san called a while ago and apologized about her schedule. I can't remember how many times I had to tell her that it was okay. Over the next week, the others called too, apologizing for the same thing." Her smile widens. "It was nice to hear from them."

You nod in agreement. "They're rooting for you. They told me to tell you that."

"Thanks." She lets out a small sigh and finally looks at you directly. "You guys really planned this thing together?"

For once, you leave the tease out and look at her openly. "Yeah, we did. And they made me promise to make sure you had a good time."

She snorts. "Our definitions of a 'good time' are obviously different."

"Can't hurt too much to try my version out, can it?" You wink at her and rise to your feet, straightening your kimono before extending your hand.

"How about a dance?" you suggest, your features carefully neutral as she blinks up at you in disbelief.

"What?"

"You're not deaf and the music isn't that loud. You heard me." You waggle your fingers in emphasis.

She frowns at your change of face, wary and unsure how to respond. Her expression shifts between emotions before settling on one, and with a look of resignation, she places her small, calloused palm in yours.

"I'd rather get some food."

_Of course you would._ You smile and pull her to her feet, linking her arm with yours. "The night is young. There's time."

Your path to the buffet table is littered with passerby, both youkai and onmyouji, who offer their congratulations. Yura accepts them all with surprising grace, a smile softening her features into something that sends warmth to your gut, strangely similar to the effect of sake in your veins.

You lose track of time after that, and only find it again when the moon reaches its peak. You've spent the last few hours trying to convince the girl on your arm to step onto the dance floor, and she's continuously found ways to dodge your advances. On one occasion, she shoves a piece of food into your mouth, effectively cutting your words short, and you counter by pushing her into the midst of the dancing throng, where she's taken into the tight confines of the fast-paced music. You grin triumphantly as she struggles to simultaneously keep pace and level you with a sizzling glare, and when an opening appears, you jump into the fold, wrapping your hands around her waist and moving yourself to the sway and bounce of the crowd. Yura shouts when the throng presses you against her back, and you mockingly place a hand to your ear to indicate your inability to hear her. She shoots off into a rapid movement of lips, and you snigger, imagining the acidic words tumbling from her mouth, turning the air electric with swears.

Through the constant shifting of the crowd, you eventually meet with Tsurara, who's doing a fast, fumbling dance with a (bouncy) Kejoro and Mezumaru. Her cheeks are a pretty pink that suggests her own alcohol intake, and you grin amusedly when she turns to Yura. "Ah, onmyouji girl! I'll let you have Rikuo-sama for tonight, since it's your special day. But don't get comfortable!" She pauses, lazily placing a finger to her chin and thinking. "Oh yeah, and congratulations."

As you chuckle at her half-lidded eyes and affectionately pat her warm cheek, Yura snorts with a humored smile. "Thanks, Oikawa-san, but don't worry." She jerks a thumb at you, and you lift an eyebrow. "He's yours. I don't want him."

For that, you push her back into the rowdier parts of the dance floor.

Eventually, Zen appears among the dancers, grinning at you as you spin a struggling Yura under your arm, and indicates that the two of you follow him to the line of cherry trees, where your grandfather stands with a mixed group of youkai and onmyouji. Hidemoto giggles at the slight dishevelment of your appearances, and Yura sends him a hard look and snatches her hand out of yours to straighten her clothing. You smirk as Ryuuji comes into your line of sight, trademark scowl on his face, nursing a small saucer of sake next to a conversing Akifusa and Kurotabo. You don't know when (or why) he chose to return to the festivities, and Yura seems just as surprised. Before she can speak to him, though, the old man stands, favorite pipe balanced between his fingers with his own cup of sake. When he calls for attention, the music quiets and the crowd hushes, anticipatory.

"I want to remind everyone why we're really gathered here tonight. Yura…" He motions for her to step forward and places a familiar hand on her head. "When I met you, you told me you wanted to defeat Nurarihyon. At the time, you were young, impulsive, and exceptionally talented. Just like my idiot grandson," he gives you a grin, and you roll your eyes, "there existed something in you that was very special, and in the years since we met, you've grown to accomplish far more than even you might have planned. Let me say that I'm glad Rikuo was wise enough to take you for a friend and comrade. I'm proud that you have grown into the fine leader you are today. And I hope these onmyouji realize what a jewel they have in you, beautiful and strong and invaluable."

Listening to your grandfather's words, you notice when Yura briefly stiffens in front of you, her eyes wide and bright and her features taut. Your grandfather notices too, and his gaze turns sympathetic. He ruffles the hair under his palm. "Know Yura, that should you ever need assistance, the Nura Clan is here. You are always welcome among us." He raises his saucer, eyeing her with a rare tenderness. "To Yura!"

"_**To Yura!**_" The crowd shatters into deafening applause, high-pitched whistles and cheers. Yura bows deeply in gratitude, her movements formal and curiously shaky, and you watch as the old man shakes his head with a grin and pulls her up and into his arms. After an initial bout of surprise, she returns his hold, her arms tight, and he chuckles with a tender pat to her head.

You know the old man shares a close tie with Yura, a certain affection that stands separate from your own friendship with her. And you wonder if that fondness, that pride in his voice, reminds Yura of her own grandfather.

You were not there on the day of his death. You wish you could have been, to offer something in the way of comfort. You know what it's like to lose someone right before your eyes, so unexpectedly and unfairly. And you hope that the old man, in his own way, is helping to heal that hole in Yura's heart, like he helped to heal yours all those years ago.

The rest of the evening is less eventful. After your grandfather's speech, Hidemoto takes Yura into his arms, mashes her body to his and rubs his cheek against hers, stroking her hair like a cat, and she rolls her eyes and pushes him off, insisting that she's fine. You all know better, proven by the shrewd looks exchanged between her brothers, and you lean over her shoulder, patting her head much like the old man did earlier.

"Stop trying so hard to keep yourself in check. It's no big deal if you get a little teary-eyed." You smirk at her look of confusion. "You could afford to soften up a little."

She glares at you. "I'm _fine_."

"And that's why your nose is snotting up like a toddler's." Ryuuji speaks to her from his place on the grass, a mocking smile on his face. You see his true motives, and Yura bristles expectedly, no doubt preparing to unleash a mouthful, when the old man interrupts.

"Yura, would you mind joining me for a dance?" He grins, pushing his cup into your hand and taking hers. Yura looks from him to her brother, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Uh, sure." She shoots a last glare at Ryuuji before following the old man onto the dance floor. As they trot away, he shoots you a mischievous grin, and you roll your eyes and take his place by Hidemoto and the others, downing the remaining sake inside his abandoned cup.

Ryuuji rises from his seat, brushing pollen from his haori. "Dummy. Her lies are almost as pathetic as her cluelessness." He regards you with an upturned chin, and you lift an eyebrow. "Make sure this crap is cleaned up before you leave. And stay the hell out of our kitchen."

"I'm sure they plan to pick up after themselves, Ryuuji." Akifusa stands up next to him with a smile. "You have our thanks, Rikuo. This evening has been quite the success, and Yura seems to have had a genuinely good time."

You grin. "Thanks for going along with everything. I appreciate it."

"Don't expect it again." You smirk at Ryuuji's back as he walks away, Akifusa following after a friendly farewell. Mamiru appears, seemingly out of nowhere, to join them, and minutely nods to you. You return his acknowledgement with an amused smile.

"They're an odd group, aren't they?" Zen sits beside you and refills your cup, mouth grinning at their retreating backs.

"No more than we are." You turn to him, blinking. "What're you doing here, anyway? You know your lungs are about to collapse. You shouldn't be exerting yourself."

Your brother laughs, downing his drink before he falls into a coughing fit. "It's worth the risk to see this. Youkai and onmyouji celebrating together: a fool's fantasy come true." He leans closer, smile turned teasing. "I doubt it would be possible if it were anybody but you and the onmyouji girl."

"Hm," you reply, catching a glimpse of Yura and the old man as they dance a simple two-step.

"Speaking of onmyouji girls," Zen begins, and you lift an eyebrow at his suggestive tone. "Is it just me, or did it seem like you two became rather feely out there in the crowd? When you pushed her into the dancers, I thought she was gonna wring your neck!"

You snort. "She tried to."

"Matter of fact, if I didn't know better..." Zen smirks, voice lowered in mock secret, "I'd say you seemed a bit _too_ comfortable putting your hands on her."

His statement is deceptively innocent-sounding, but the knowing smirk on his lips as you lock eyes is more than telling. Silently, you turn back to the dance floor, where a large group of your smaller followers has joined Yura and the old man. They make a rough circle around the pair, and you see Natto-Kozo climb Yura's robes to bounce on her shoulder, his shrill voice piercing the night as he laughs. Yura returns the happy sound, her hands clasped in the old man's, her previous disquiet practically nonexistent as she lightly sways her hips to the melody, her lips animated as the two carry on a conversation.

You felt those hips under your hands as the partying crowd pushed you against her back, her wiry frame pressed into yours in a way that was only hinted at through sight alone. Two years ago, on graduation day, you also held her, but you were too preoccupied by her leaving, and the heavy despondence you _felt_ at her leaving, to notice such things.

But you noticed them tonight, the night marking your official reunion. And the changes she has made (and the ways she has stayed the same) intrigue you, the same way they did when she spoke to you so sternly, the same way they did the night she confided to your youkai for the first time.

When you turn back to Zen, his smile is wider, the awareness in his gaze ten-fold.

You merely smirk, raising the sake to your lips. "Ridiculous."

* * *

As dawn closes in, the festivities finally dwindle down, and your clan begins packing away for the trip home. The onmyouji assist them with haste, eager for the heat of a bath, the coolness of a futon, and the silence of a youkai-free house.

They're amateurs, really, the way they sway on their feet, half-dead with exhaustion.

Hidemoto stands off to the side with the old man, sharing a final word; nearby, you stand with Yura and watch as the stars gradually dissolve into the eastern sky.

"Thank you."

You lower your chin to regard the young woman next to you and find her eyes on the same sight, features softened to a smile. When she meets your gaze, the softness persists, emphasized by the black hair framing her pale face, and you note the rarity of such a sight, seen only on a handful of occasions, especially in your night form.

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "You're grateful now?"

Unexpectedly, she nods in honesty. "Mm. I appreciate it as something you and the others put together for me. Even with you in charge." She shrugs.

"Careful," you caution, surprised at the roundabout praise, "You might find yourself wanting to do it again."

She chuckles. "Not likely, but I'll keep it in mind."

"Fair enough." You straighten your kimono and tap your zori back into place on your feet. "Well, we're off."

"Have a safe trip."

"Of course." Nodding to your grandfather's signal to leave, you lower yourself to Yura's height and tilt closer until your lips nearly brush the shell of her ear.

"Happy Birthday, Keikain-sama." You smirk as she pushes you away for the twentieth time that night, her hand rubbing her ear in annoyance.

"Do you have no concept of personal space? _Geez_." You merely wink and turn away, your hands tucked casually into your sleeves, her sharp complaint bringing Zen's commentary to mind.

You smirk to yourself.

"Until next time, Yura," you call back, catching eyes, and she perceives your purposeful choice of words with surprise; eventually, however, she replies with a small, accepting smile and a nod.

For now, at least, it's enough.


	3. And Meet Again

**A/N**: *sigh* These chapters keep getting longer, and we're only three in. Let's hope by the time this baby ends, we won't have a microscopic scroll bar. Thanks so much for everyone's support! Enjoy!

Just a heads-up: A few details in Parts I and II have been lightly to moderately edited. It's not necessary to reread these chapters, but I wanted to let you all know.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _Nurarihyon no Mago_ or its characters. I do own some stuff, though, like this story and the original elements I add to it.

**Warning(s)**: Slight language, grotesque imagery, and hints of a mini plot. Uh-oh.

**Special notes at end of chapter.**

* * *

"_Tian Quan_!" From your glowing figure, two shots of light erupt into the atmosphere and take the shapes of two cranes. The first, its slender form coated in snow-white feathers, comes to perch at your side, and lifts its enormous wings to the early summer sky. As each of its individual feathers shine, a barrier erupts, encapsulating you in a protective aura. In the same moment, the crane's twin, its feathers black as an urn of ink, takes aim at your target, curls its wings around itself and combusts into dark flames. With a sharp cry, it launches itself as a black missile, and in an explosion of fire, collides with the earth.

When the smoke clears, there is little left of your opponent, mere chunks of flesh that soon disintegrate to ash and whisk away with the morning breeze. Your shield dissolves, and the white crane arches its neck to call out. In answer, a swirl of black feathers blows in with the wind and coalesces into the shape of its former owner, restructuring skin, muscle, and hollow bone until the animal is reborn, returning the call of its twin. When you wave your hand, both sibling cranes trot to your side, and you caress their massive heads with a smile of approval and an affectionate tap to each beak.

"Well done," you say, and they ruffle their contrasting feathers with pleasure before disappearing into the reserves of your power. Straightening your clothes and brushing away invisible patches of dust, you make a cursory sweep of the area one final time before exiting the battlefield.

_Child's play._

Your clients wait for your report on the steps of their old home, their eyes wide with anticipation. The youngest child stands by her mother, her little hands clutching the apron covering the woman's legs. When she looks up at you, hope brightening her small face, you offer a gentle smile and a nod of confirmation.

"Your problem's been dealt with. You shouldn't experience any more disturbance in your home."

The family sags with relief, and the mother clasps her children to her with tears in her eyes.

"Thank you so much, Keikain-sama! We don't know how to repay you!"

You shake your head. "No repayment is necessary. I was more than happy to help." With a bow, you take your leave, a clean breeze ruffling the bangs on your forehead, so different from the tainted air that surrounded the house when you arrived.

"Keikain-sama!"

You turn toward the call to see the youngest child running towards you, her yellow sandals clapping on the pavement and her green summer dress swirling about her knees. She puffs slightly when she reaches you and raises her small hand to present you with a single flower, a white _aoi_. Surprised at the gift, you take it with wide eyes, and she shuffles her feet and peeks up at you with shy eyes.

"Thank you for helping us, Keikain-sama."

You gaze at the bloom in your hand, studying the bright petals, and smile. Crouching, you place a hand on her shoulder, smile warming when she looks at you with surprise.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to take good care of this."

You're not prepared when the child breaks into a beaming grin, her front teeth housing a gap from a lost tooth. To your shock, she launches herself at you, small arms wrapping around your neck as she plants a baby's kiss against your cheek. You don't know how to respond to this, your experience with children being terribly limited, but you're spared embarrassment when she releases you just as abruptly and runs back to her mother, who gently scolds her for her lack of etiquette. When the girl turns back to you with a wave, you awkwardly return it before continuing on your way.

You're mortified to feel a small blush warming your cheeks. Even from a child, you're unaccustomed to such acts of affection.

_You're pathetic,_ you think to yourself, but a smile still lights your face as you clutch the white flower to your chest.

* * *

You return to the Main House at noon, when the sun is a bright circle in a cloudless sky, radiating a heat that pastes your hakama to your legs and dampens the hair at your temples. The grounds are quiet, as most of your family has left on missions.

A rare chance for relaxation, you decide, and your steps quicken with excitement as you make your way to your room.

"Yura."

Briefly, you consider pretending ignorance and rebuffing the call, but with a sigh of defeat, you turn to the sound. Your brother approaches from across the courtyard, and you wonder how he can stand to be in those dark robes, absorbing the sun's rays like a solar panel.

"Yes, Nii-chan?" Your tone is less than enthused, and he smirks.

"How'd the job go?"

"The youkai was just a rebel. He wasn't affiliated with any clans." _Just a coward with a fetish for widows and children._

"You destroyed it, then?"

"Of course," you reply, frowning. "I wouldn't be back if I hadn't."

"Just making sure you didn't skip out in favor of an early lunch." His smirk widens.

"As if I would!" You clench your fists with a glare before remembering the gift in your hand and loosening your grip. Ryuuji notices.

"Who gave you that?" His tone shifts, a small scowl twisting his lips.

You eye the flower, relieved to see your careless treatment hasn't harmed it. "The client's daughter. She gave it to me as a thank you." You frown again when his shoulders relax and his scowl morphs back into a smirk, so quickly you excuse it as a trick of the heat.

"A fan? I suppose even _you_ deserve an admirer every now and again."

_Must have been an illusion. He's the same ass he always is._ You straighten your shoulders with poise, refusing to be goaded, and clutch the flower protectively to your breast.

"Are we done?"

"Almost. You have some guests waiting for you in one of the sitting rooms. They arrived half an hour ago." Your brother frowns again, features darkening in annoyance. "The _brat_ is with them."

You cock your head, curious. The "brat" you know to be Nura-kun; you wonder why he would be here._ And who would he bring with him?_ You wince at the thought of walking into a group of lively youkai. _After last month's party,_ _Nii-chan would be furious to see youkai here again so soon_.

You nod, accepting the message and mentally preparing yourself. "I'll go see them."

"Good. The sooner you have your little get-together, the sooner they can leave. This isn't a place for social visits." You roll your eyes as he walks away, absentmindedly plucking at your clothes with distaste. _I'd rather take a shower first, but I don't want to keep these guys waiting longer than necessary._ Stopping one of the grounds-keepers, you ask him for their location, and he points you in the direction of one of the inner buildings designated for guests and clientele.

As you approach, you hear the sounds of excited chatter, strangely familiar to your ears, and remove your footwear before sliding the shoji open, memories prickling…

"_Surprise!"_

You let out a whoosh of air as a tangle of bodies wraps around you, arresting your breath and squeezing your limbs 'til they threaten to pop from their sockets.

"…G-guys?" Your voice comes out in a wheeze, overshadowed by the jumble of voices.

"Yura-chan!" Ienaga-san clings to you, brunette hair rubbing your cheek. "It's so good to see you!"

"An understatement, Ienaga-kun!" Slowly, the group releases you and backs away, and you gasp slightly as your lungs fill again. Catching your breath, you're stunned to see your grade-school friends gathered around you, their familiar faces bright with excitement. Ienaga-san and Torii-san hold onto your hands, and you slowly squeeze them.

As if the past years have been no more than an illusion, Kiyotsugu-kun booms his voice over the others, as dramatically as he ever did. "To think, after all these years, our onmyouji girl is back in our midst! This is cause for a national _holiday_!" Shima-kun happily nods next to him.

"Chill _out_, drama king. It's only been a few years since high school." Maki-san punches his shoulder, and you can't help the smile that comes to your lips as he winces. Overwhelmed at the familiarity, you release the girls' hands to close the doors behind you and take a short moment to gather yourself. "Besides, I don't think we can call her 'girl' anymore. When did you get that _ass_, Yura-chan?!"

You freeze. "_WHAT?!_" Mortified, you whip around to face the group, reflexively covering your rear as the room erupts with a mix of chokes and laughter. The girls (_women_, you correct yourself) fall into a tumble of hilarity, Shima-kun hacks, cheeks turning apple-red, and Kiyotsugu-kun stutters with desperate sounds of "I didn't mean it like _that_!" Oikawa-san has melted into a puddle of giggles from her seat at the kotatsu, and next to her, you see Nura-kun's face dusted with red, his fist covering his mouth in a polite cough that bursts into a chuckle when he catches your eye. You stare as he tries to hide his blunder behind another cough, and gape when he finally turns away from you, unable to withhold his laughter.

For the second time since the start of the day, you're stuck between discomfort and unease, utterly clueless for how to react. But unlike the little girl who gave you a handicap in your awkwardness, these friends of yours are ruthless.

Thirty seconds into your reunion, and you've already backtracked to middle school.

Still, amidst your embarrassment, you're grateful to feel this amity again, to be a part of this _family_ again. This unlikely mix of people had become dearer to you than you had ever imagined, and you've never been happier for the unexpected hold they took on your heart.

You have a home with these people, and that's more than worth the crimson flush spreading to your hairline.

You excuse yourself to change soon after everyone has calmed, unwilling to give Maki-san more ammo. Your robes still cling to your figure with a distinct stickiness that sends you shuddering, and your flower needs to be placed in water before it succumbs to the summer heat.

As you step out, promising to return shortly, Maki-san calls from the table, "Wait! I still gotta see how big your boobs have got-"

The shoji slides shut with a hard clatter as you close it, not wanting her to finish. Through the paper panels, you hear renewed laughter, and Kiyotsugu-kun scolds the girls for their obvious amusement at your expense, his words still stumbling over each other.

You sigh as you walk to your room, reluctantly smiling at their humor. _Some things never change._ Reaching your chambers, you place your gift in a small pitcher of cold water, vowing to give it a proper home later. You shower quickly, rinsing the sweat and dust from your skin and hair, and dress in a simple ensemble of denims (baggy, you ensure) and a sleeveless shirt. Sliding on a pair of straw sandals, you make your way back to the group, who are still animatedly chatting when you slide the doors open, a tray balanced on your arm.

"Ah, what a sight! The onmyouji in her natural element." You arch an eyebrow at Kiyotsugu-kun and set the tray in the center of the kotatsu, passing around slices of cold melon from the kitchen.

"We're visiting a friend, Kiyotsugu, not watching a wildlife documentary." Maki-san bites into her fruit, scowling at the man.

Torii-san looks curiously at you. "Where's that flower you had, Yura-chan?"

"Oh." You realize that they all probably saw the flower clutched in your fingers. "I put it in some water back in my room."

"It was beautiful," Ienega-san chimes in, peeling the skin from her slice. "Where'd you get it?"

"An anonymous admirer?" Maki-san lifts an eyebrow suggestively, and you snort inwardly.

"Not quite."

"As if you could blame a man for wanting to grab a beautiful woman's attention!" Kiyotsugu-kun declares. "Imagine what he might think of you, a goddess of Yang, destined to strike down the evils of the world to protect mankind!"

You all stare at the man with blank looks. It's almost surreal, that he's actually remained the same eccentric boy after all this time.

_Surreal…and a tad disturbing._

"…Anyway," Ienaga-san begins, and Kiyotsugu-san sags to the floor when the group turns to her without another glance. "Who _did_ give it to you?"

"Was it from the family you went out to help this morning?" Nura-kun smiles when you nod in confirmation.

"Their family had a little girl. She gave it to me."

"Wait, how did you know, Nura-kun?" Torii-san eyes him, confused.

"It came up over the phone a little while ago."

"Makes sense," Shima-kun begins, licking juice from his fingers. You notice that he sits particularly close to Oikawa-san, and remember his obvious crush from grade school with an inward smile. _He obviously hasn't changed._ "With you two both in the business of youkai, you'd compare notes, right?" He sighs exasperatedly. "Wish we had time to hear about it all."

"It's not like we discuss youkai all the time," Nura-kun replies, straightening his glasses with a shrug. "More often than not, we just talk."

"A_ha_!" Kiyotsugu-kun jumps back into the conversation, passions reignited. "Excellent analogy, Shima! It would be absolutely beneficial for Nura-kun and Yura-kun to trade information, as they both strive to protect humans from the dangers of youkai. But, as Nura-kun cleverly withheld, they must trade this information secretly, as they are officially on opposing sides! Thus are they inclined to keep their exchanges from us mere humans and disguise them as 'talks'." His hands pose quotation marks over his head.

You're stumped again. Only Kiyotsugu-kun could ever create such a complicated web from so little. The others stare at him with gaping mouths, before Nura-kun pipes up.

"It's really not like that, Kiyotsugu. We really do just talk, the same way we all did after graduation." He pauses, tapping a finger to his chin. "Keikain-san and I have been doing it since middle school."

Your friend deflates again, sinking back onto the floor. "Oh."

"Besides, Kiyotsugu-kun, I don't think Nura-kun and Yura-chan could ever be that sneaky. It's not like them." Torii-san grins when your former squad leader sags in disappointment, poking his shoulder.

"But _man_, have we missed out," Maki-san declares, sweeping her blonde bags from her forehead and fanning her face. "Our phone chats have seriously been slacking. Nura-kun and Tsurara-chan called to tell us about your ceremony, but we couldn't find a time to all come up here at once. College schedules _suck_."

"So Rikuo-kun got us together to set a date that would agree with all of us," Ienaga-san continues with an apologetic smile. "We're sorry we couldn't be here for your big day."

You shrug, stuffing fruit into your mouth as your hunger seizes you. "I told you before it was okay."

"But when we wanted to tell you about our coming, Rikuo-kun said it was a surprise. He kept us from calling you, too, to wish you a happy birthday." Ienaga-san grins, eyeing him, and he looks away innocently. "He seemed determined to keep you in the dark."

"As if it was difficult for Master to do. The onmyouji girl would never be clever enough to figure it out." You turn in the direction of Oikawa-san, frowning at her twinkling eyes, and sniff derisively.

"Unlike your typical _youkai_, I don't have so much experience in secrecy; they're the masters of deceit, after all. You'd never find _me_ trying to hide something from someone."

"Except the big _butt_ that Maki-chan pointed out earlier." The room goes silent as Oikawa-san daintily bites into her melon, eyes averted in false innocence. Your eye ticks.

"You leave my body out of this, Yuki-onna. At least I don't trip over thin air."

She gapes in offense before turning her nose up. "I am a graceful snow woman. I _don't _trip."

"Tell that to the scuff marks on my _floor_."

"That's not _me_, that's the oversized _rocks_ you call your _feet_!"

"You don't know anything about my feet, you deceitful _youkai_!"

"Gullible _onmyouji_!"

"Alright, time out!" Maki-san rises her feet, hands spreading out before resting on her ample hips. She turns to Ienaga-san, who watches the exchange between you with a thoughtful face. "Doesn't Tsurara-chan usually save the cattiness for you?"

Ienaga-san nods absentmindedly, switching her gaze from you to Oikawa-san and back again. "Yeah…she does." She cocks her head, putting a finger to her chin.

Maki-san eyes her curiously before turning back to the group. "Anyway, this room is way too crowded for a cat fight. I say we all go outside where there's fresh air and more space for wrestling."

"Uh…Saori, I don't think you should be encouraging this…" Torii-san plucks the woman's shirt, nervously eyeing the intense staring match occurring between you and Oikawa-san.

"Relax, Torii-kun! This is a priceless opportunity! A bout between a powerful youkai and onmyouji! I'm practically tingling!"

"This isn't a death match, Kiyotsugu." Shima-kun pushes the excited man out the doors, and the others shuffle outside after them. Nura-kun stays behind, rising to his feet before stepping between you and his Lieutenant. "Are you two okay?"

"We're fine!" You both answer simultaneously, and he blinks before releasing a long-suffering sigh.

"Well, are you coming outside with the rest of us?"

"In a minute!" You recite again in chorus.

With a resigned, slightly dry look, Nura-kun follows the others outside, leaving you with your adversary.

You narrow your eyes at your one-time nurse. "I don't know _what_ your problem is, Yuki-onna, bu-"

"It's _Tsurara_."

You stop, blinking, your stance weakening slightly as you eye her with confusion. "What?"

"Don't play dumb. We've known each other long enough for you to quit with the formalities." She crosses her arms under her chest, frowning lightly, her earlier brashness almost completely dissipated. _Almost._

You mentally stumble, trying to understand her logic. "Why do you care what I call you?"

She huffs, foot tapping with exasperation. "It's ridiculous that you keeping talking as if you haven't known us for almost a _decade_. Last month, when Rikuo-sama went out of his way to plan a party for you with the others, _you_ treated him like a stranger. As his second-in-command, I find this unacceptable."

You blink before a frown mars your features, lips pursing at her accusation. "I didn't _ask_ for a party. Nura-kun did it without my permissio-"

"No excuses!" She huffs at you, and you watch, slightly taken aback, as she points a finger toward the doors. "Right now, I, Lieutenant of the Nura Clan, deem you unworthy of Rikuo-sama's kindness or compassion." You gape at her, and she straightens resolutely. "Out of loyalty to him, however, I am willing to try my best to fix you." Even in your shock, your eye twitches at the implication that something in you needs fixing in the first place. "Learn to be familiar with _me_, and maybe you can stop acting like _you_ long enough to show Rikuo-sama some real gratitude for his friendship."

You blink at her firm tone, feeling a creeping suspicion. _Wait a minute._ "Did you pull all that crap earlier just to get us alone so you could talk to me about _this_?" _What the hell?_

The snow woman sniffs. "That's none of your business." Straightening her scarf and skirt, Oikawa-san makes her way to the shoji doors and opens them with a _clack; t_urning back to you, she points a warning finger. "Just remember what I've said." She spins around and puts her back to you, muttering under her breath, and you catch what sounds like a proud pat on the back. "And so the Nura Clan Lieutenant strikes again..."

For once, you can't find the words to retaliate as the snow woman steps outside into the sunshine, the sounds of the others reaching your ears. Nura-kun approaches her, eyes shaded with questions and brow raised. You can't hear how Oikawa-san replies, but when she finishes, Nura-kun focuses on your position in the doorway, as much confusion marking his features as yours.

Their visit lasts until the air finally cools with the coming of evening. You give them a tour of the grounds, show them the renovations you've made since the war all those years ago, and even take them into the city for lunch at your favorite food stand. The entire time, the air is rife with laughter and conversation, and you're struck again with the familiarity of it all, the fond memories that you've tried not to think too much about for fear of your resolve weakening. When they finally depart for Tokyo, however, you admit that it's difficult to see them go. You all gather together on the crowded train platform for a final squeezing embrace, and you promise, to yourself as well as them, that your next reunion will come far more quickly.

* * *

As the summer sun continues to burn and the moon turns its cycles, your days fluctuate between the speed of Tanrou's swift paws and Kyomon's languorous stomps. Some hours pass at a rate too rapid to keep up with, while others seem to slow to a complete standstill.

It takes time for you to equate yourself with your new position, to associate yourself with the undertakings of a leader. Too many hours are spent in the presence of the branch family heads, and too few are spent in the privacy of your own company. You miss the days when you could spend the passing hours honing your skills, the only obstacles being your own limitations. These new responsibilities are a testament to the weight your Jii-chan carried on his broad shoulders, and you sometimes find yourself wondering if you can uphold his legacy.

In these moments, you place yourself in front of his memorial and pray. You ask your loved ones for guidance in your steps, strength in your judgments, and faith in your heart. And you swear that a warm hand lands on your shoulder as you kneel, incense caressing your chin and filling your nose.

You always leave that holy place with a deep-seated peace inside you. Facing the day's long itinerary, your conviction is rekindled and your spirit is restored.

You continue to believe in the path you've chosen to walk, as Jii-chan always taught you.

* * *

On the eve of the summer solstice, you receive an assignment from a temple on the outskirts of the city. It requests your expertise in an exorcism, a demon seeking the local deity's soul. In the wee hours of the night, you pack a small satchel of belongings to take with you. The workings of gods are fragile; you know this mission will require your time and hard-earned patience.

"Remember to take provisions, Yura-chan." Hidemoto lounges against the wall nearby, overlooking your preparations, fanning himself from the night heat.

"You tell me the same thing every time," you grunt, shoving another scroll into the recesses of the bag. "Why do you always insist on food, but stay quiet about everything else?"

"I figure food would be the most important thing you would need. You can't protect a god on an empty stomach, and you have a very high metabolism."

You pause, lifting your gaze to your ancestor's cheeky grin. "Are you saying I eat a lot?"

"Yes, though with far more eloquence."

You stare at the man, nostrils flaring, before you silently resume packing. Hidemoto claps.

"Well done, Yura-chan! That rabid dog of a temper is finally leashed. I've never been more proud."

"Reward me by shutting your mouth."

"Oops, it's gotten loose again."

"It has not!"

He claps the fan against his lips. "Shhh! Show some consideration for those asleep."

"Then show some consideration for those slowly losing their minds!" You hiss at the man, scowling when he chuckles.

"Have I ever told you what a treat you are, Yura-chan?"

You toss a stray shoe at his face.

An hour before the sunrise, you summon Tanrou and depart for the temple, his paws pounding the earth, sending vibrations through your legs. You edge toward the countryside, leave the cement of the city behind, and set your sights to the sky to watch the stars blink out, individual universes you can't begin to fathom. You follow the pattern of the giant bear, stroke Tanrou's fur as his namesake disappears, a sight you rarely witness under Kyoto's artificial lights.

What's up there, you wonder, as the darkness gives way to indigo. What amazing places exist beyond those stars? Your ancestors, you know, are up there, your Jii-chan, your mother and father, and brothers and sisters. _But is there more?_

Are the worlds up there black or white? Are they painted with color or ashen like sand? Or are they prisms, as vivid and varied as they seem right now, winking as though they hold some profound secret?

As the sky waves to you with a violet hand, as the sun gilds the horizon and your robes and Tanrou's fur with orange fire, you find yourself wanting to know their riddles, to solve them and somehow find the answers to the questions that have flooded your head these recent years.

Lowering your gaze, you shake yourself. You've never been one for philosophical thought; that is your brother's forte. But over the years, even you have had your moments of contemplation, where your small universe of onmyoujutsu has seemed itself rather small.

You prefer to ignore the origin of those thoughts. No doubt the instigators would go out of their way to tease you for it, eyes glinting with identical teases, as if boy and grandfather had become one and the same. But even as you're filled with a familiar annoyance at the mental image, a tolerant smile also comes to your lips, and you look back up at the dawn sky.

Surely, up there in those unfathomable worlds and among those secret stars, there is color. And, perhaps, there is also gray.

* * *

You arrive at your destination a quarter to nine, pat Tanrou's head as he disappears, and trek to the temple doors. The priest there greets you warmly and leads you to the garden where the deity's shrine is kept. You're happy to see the glade well-tended, the grass glistening with dew, beds of flowers and dark green shrubs, and a large pond that splashes with koi fish.

The priest shakes his head with humility when you compliment his work. "Our deity does all of this," he explains. "On the vernal equinox, the life here is revived from winter, and remains this way until the autumnal equinox in September." At your perplexed look, he smiles. "Ah, I see your confusion. Our deity here is very special, in that she is not a child of Izanagi and Izanami, but a daughter of the people."

You blink, recalling a piece of information from your studies the night before. "You mean she was created from the thoughts of the people who live here."

"Yes. Our goddess was originally mortal, a human woman who cared for orphan children of human and youkai origin. In life, she strove to create harmony between Yin and Yang, and through the prayers of the villagers, became a living Buddha." The old priest sighs. "And so is our dilemma. An evil spirit desires that holy power for itself, and so seeks our god's life."

You listen to his tale with interest as you survey the glade, and smile when you see long stems of _aoi_, the same flower that rests in a vase on your nightstand. "This spirit won't pose a problem. Your goddess will be protected."

The old man sighs, his relief palpable. "I thank you, Keikain-sama. If you should need anything, please come seek refuge in the temple."

"Thank you." As the priest takes his leave, you turn your attention to the small shrine nestled against the edge of the woods, its polished wood gleaming in the morning sunlight. As you approach, you feel the aura it emanates, pure and clean, and pause to stare deep into the forest, senses widening.

…_There_.

In the darkness of the shadowed trees, you catch the fading signature of a tainted energy. It retreats deeper into the woods before you can track it, and you frown in irritation.

_Coward. No wonder they haven't been able to chase him off._ _The whole damn forest is his hideout._

With a resigned sigh, you take a seat in front of the shrine, stretching your limbs to get comfortable.

_This is going to take a while._

* * *

"Ah, so this is where you've been nesting out."

Eyes popping open, you whip yourself around, ofuda in your fingers and Rentei's name on your lips. You complete the first syllable before a hand claps over your mouth, effectively halting your incantation.

"Should've known you'd attack first and think later." Eyes widening, you watch as Nura-kun crouches down in front of you, yellow eyes glinting, mouth curved in his favorite smirk. "Will you ever change," he wonders aloud, before removing his hand.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Your voice comes out hoarse, and he chuckles as you clear your throat.

"Mouth fuzzy? That's what happens when you sleep on the job."

Frowning, you open your satchel for a bottle of water, popping the cap and taking a long gulp. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Why else would your eyes be closed?"

"In meditation, smart ass." Taking another swig, you cap the bottle and wipe your mouth on the sleeve of your haori. Nura-kun grins.

"How ladylike."

"Bite me." For the first time, you acknowledge his appearance, the two-colored flag of hair, pale skin, and vernal kimono. Frowning, you look up to see a midnight sky, the moon bleaching the grass under your knees blue. "Is it really night time?"

Nura-kun arches an eyebrow. "How deep in 'meditation' were you?"

"Too deep, I guess," you mutter, slowly uncrossing your cramped legs. "I've been trying to catch a read on this youkai's signature, but he's a sneaky bastard."

"Where is he?" You point into the woods, and Nura-kun rises to his feet. Approaching the forest line, he stops just beyond it, peering into the darkness. After a long minute, he shakes his head and returns to you, crossing his legs under him. "No wonder you've been out here all night. It's like a maze in there."

You nod in agreement, taking a final look into the trees before turning back. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"You told me you were coming up here today."

You shake your head with lowered eyelids. "That's not an invitation for you to show up."

"You should elaborate next time, then." He grins at your scowl. "Eaten anything?"

As if to answer his inquiry personally, your stomach releases a deep growl, reminiscent of Tanrou's snarl. Your cheeks immediately erupt in red-tinged embarrassment, and Nura-kun's brow arches into his hairline.

"Well-"

"Just shut up," you snap, reaching into your satchel for a snack bar. Before you can locate it, a small bento box is shoved under your nose, filled to the brim with food. You eye it with a moistening throat before looking at Nura-kun, who shakes it in emphasis.

"You want it, right? Better take it before I change my mind."

You swallow. "Is it yours?"

His eyebrow lifts. "Does it matter? I'm offering it to you."

"But…if it's yours-"

A rice ball is stuffed into your mouth before you can finish, and you let out a muffled yelp as it's pushed in further.

"Stop being difficult and eat. Gods know you're thin enough." Taking his fingers away and leaning back, he watches as you reluctantly chew and swallow. When you're confident you won't choke, you turn on him.

"What the hell was _that_?! You don't shove food down people's throats!"

"You sound grateful," he says, tone dripping sarcasm. "I made that lunch for myself and chose to give it to you, and I get yelled at?" He shakes his head in hurt. "It's like the party all over again. You don't appreciate anything I do for you."

"Maybe if you actually tried being _nice_ about 'the things you do for me', I'd appreciate them more!"

He cocks his head in consideration. "Tsurara once said something similar."

"She's your Lieutenant, right? Maybe you should take her advice." You look down at the food in your hands, neatly packaged and smelling like heaven. Torn in deliberation, you frown suspiciously when Nura-kun wordlessly hands you a pair of disposable chopsticks.

…_Damn it_. With a curse to your hunger and a sigh of surrender, you take them from his fingers.

"Thanks," you mutter, voice low.

"You're welcome," he returns, and his tone matches yours. As you try not to tear into the food with too much gusto, he shifts until he's reclined on his side. A bottle of sake emerges from his large sleeve, along with a sakazuki and his grandfather's pipe. You watch him with curiosity.

"You carry that stuff with you all the time?" You talk around the food in your mouth, hand covering your lips.

"Not all the time. Usually only when I'm far from home." He smirks, pouring himself a cup. "The old man hates it when I snag his pipe, though." He takes a sip, eyeing the bento in your hands. "Good?"

Remembering that he made it, you nod, and he reaches a hand to grab a piece and pop it into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully. "Not bad, though Mom and Tsurara's are better."

"Why'd you decide to make one yourself?"

He shrugs, taking another sip of alcohol. "Felt like it, I guess."

"Tsurara-san's might've been better for the hot weather. Didn't you say hers were always cold?"

"Mm." Nura-kun smirks, regarding you around the sakazuki. "Doing what she told you, eh? She explained the little deal you have between you."

You frown slightly, poking your rice with a chopstick. "She was so damn adamant about it. But…I guess I see her point."

"Oh?" He takes the cup from his lips, curiosity lining his face.

"I've known you all for so long and been through so much with you, I guess it _is_ kind of weird that I still refer to you so formally."

He shrugs, snagging another piece of food. "You're a Kyoto girl."

You frown, confused. "What?"

"It's a saying Kana-chan told me once, out of one of her magazines. 'Subtle, indirect speech is the Kyoto girl's modesty'." He shrugs again. "Your closeness to us isn't reflected when you speak. It's not a big deal."

You blink, surprised. "I've never heard that."

"Not surprising. You're painfully inept when it comes to popular culture."

"Magazines aren't exactly conducive to my training." Scowling, you consider launching the lacquered box at his smug grin.

"How do you know? You've never read any." He smirks at your irritation, pouring another cup of sake. "Speaking to lack of experience…" To your surprise, he holds the cup out to you. "Want some?"

Your face scrunches reflexively, and you shake your head. "No."

"Afraid you're a lightweight?"

"No, I don't drink on the _job_, idiot."

"Afterward, then."

"Why do want me to have some so bad?"

"You could use something to lighten up. Even your brother took the stick out of his ass when _he_ downed some." Nura-kun gently swivels the sakazuki, the sake swirling within like a small whirlpool. "A small celebration after the job's done. Deal?"

"Another 'small celebration'? Is your entire clan hiding in the bushes?" Rolling your eyes, you consider the dare in his gaze. "I'll _think_ about it."

"Hmm." He takes the cup back to himself, sounding unconvinced, and downs the liquid in one swallow before setting it on the grass. "I'll hold you to it."

Chewing your last morsel of food, you eye the empty bento box with a sad sigh. "Of course you will."

* * *

Official Keikain records state that ayakashi idolize the hours just before dawn, when the sky is its darkest and the shadows are their deepest. In Kyoto, the center of spiritual power, this time is considered evil. The starlit sky blackens, the moon disappears behind the clouds, and a threatening mist envelops the city streets, blinding all those who lack the eyes of Yin.

It is during these hours that most people are taken from their homes and devoured, their corpses stripped of skin and emptied of blood. It is during these hours that your patrol forces double, just to compensate for the increased activity.

It is during these hours, when your eyes are closed, your limbs relaxed, your senses expanded to brush against the lounging companion at your back, that your target erupts from the shadowed trees and attacks.

"_Yura!_" A hand drops on your shoulder at the same time your eyes fly open and Rentei forms to your arm. You leap to your feet, take aim at a dark shadow at the tree line, and fire. In an explosion of purifying water, the shade disappears, and you squint into the mist, unable to determine if you hit your mark.

"_Haha!_" A giggle whispers against your ear, sending a chill down your back, and you whip around to see Nura-kun's sword arc overhead, deflecting the strike aimed for your shoulder. You take a deep breath, shaking your head to clear it. Nura-kun steps to your side, blade resting at his shoulder.

"You alright?" His gaze remains straight ahead, but you nod, absentmindedly touching your ear where the voice rang.

"That sounded like a child," you mutter, confused, and Nura-kun inclines his head to the tree line.

"I doubt _that_ thing is a child."

Against the shadows of the trees stands a black figure, tall, thin and disfigured. Straggly strands of white hair cover its body at the elbows, calves, and temples, and its face, almost canine, is emaciated, its pupil-less eyes protruding from their sockets.

"You know what the _hell_ that is?" Nura-kun steps closer to you, sword hand tightening on Nenekirimaru's hilt.

You don't get the chance to answer. You hear the horrifying screech of an animal, and the next second has the creature in your space, a putrid stench filling your nose right before it lifts a large fist to smash into your body. You dodge at the last moment, landing in a skidding crouch several yards away, and lift Rentei to fire a quick succession of blasts. You watch, stunned, as the creature twists its body to avoid them, bones cracking as it bends into grotesque shapes. Nura-kun takes advantage of the distraction and flashes in, blade arcing for a slash to the throat, and the beast folds itself over backward to dodge, spine snapping with an echo that sends your heart pounding. As Nura-kun comes back around for another strike, it fixes itself, skeleton snapping back into place as it meets the blade with a disfigured hand, its oversized nails screeching along the metal. With its other arm, it reaches around for another hit, and you open your mouth to shout as it connects with Nura-kun's head, only to pass harmlessly through a streak of shadow. Nura-kun dissolves from your sight and reappears overhead, his blade coming down to slice into the youkai's shoulder blade. It unearths a high-pitched shriek and whips around to counter, only to find its target gone.

Nura-kun materializes at your side, eyes narrowed, mouth twisted in a grimace. "This bastard is something." He looks at you, and you notice the tiniest scrape at his temple. "You have any idea what it is?"

You circulate through the endless information you've consumed in the Main House archives. "A_ goryō_."

"A what?"

"A vengeful ghost, an incarnation of the spirit of someone who was betrayed in life." You watch the creature reorient itself, wincing when the sound of splitting bones echoes over the area. You recall the signature of its aura, different from that of an ayakashi, more malevolent and less predictable.

_Force cannot defeat the wrath of a goryō. In a god's territory, it must be purified and sealed away._

You swallow lightly and nod to yourself, recalling your studies. "Only a special kind of exorcism can defeat it." Nura-kun watches as you reach into your voluminous sleeves, pulling out a roll of parchment. "I can purify it by performing the rites of the yamabushi, but I'll need time to perform the incantation."

He lifts an eyebrow. "So…I'm bait."

You cock your head, eyeing him with a smirk. "You're the one who came all the way out here. The least you can do is make yourself useful."

He scratches at the cut on his temple, focusing on the creature as it repositions a final rib, and finally grins at you.

"As long as you don't take forever. You sure this isn't a chance for you to finally get rid of me?"

You peer up at him, a wayward smile on your lips. "Sounds tempting. I guess you'll just have to trust me."

He returns your look, eyes shining. "Trust goes both ways. Better hope I keep his attention." Then, with a wink, he strides away, sword tapping his shoulder.

"I don't know what the hell you are," he announces, and the creature turns its rheumy eyes to him, teeth clacking. "But you should know that challenging the master of all spirits is _not_ wise."

You roll your eyes at his line and unfurl the scroll in your hands. As its length tumbles to the ground, you scan the contents, raise your arms and lace your fingers in the pattern of the first incantation. Shutting out the sights and sounds of the battle, you empty your thoughts and release your power. A stream of words flows from your lips and gains substance in your mind, a chain that circles the beast's spirit with Yang. Your hands morph and change, forming binding symbols, and you feel the temperature rise as they take hold.

A burst of energy and a muffled crash breaks into your concentration, and you open your eyes to see Nura-kun pulling himself from the splintered remains of a tree, his kimono dirtied and torn. The beast lumbers feet away, its aura rising from its body, black and foul.

_As the purification takes hold, a goryō will fight back, and its true nature will be unleashed. That is the moment of greatest risk, when it no longer values its own preservation, only the defeat of its enemy._

Your heart falls to your gut when the creature locks eyes with you, its lips snarling. _It knows what I'm doing._

Nura-kun unexpectedly appears at its shoulder and smashes the hilt of his sword into its face. "Your fight's with _me_. Yura, keep going."

Shaking your head to clear it, you refocus your efforts and force yourself to ignore the running path of blood down Nura-kun's chin. The words regain their momentum, and you furrow your brow as the goryō releases a bloodcurdling howl, its aura rocketing to the sky with a force that burns the air. Nura-kun launches an attack and rips his sword into its side, and the beast grabs a hold of his kimono and throws him back, tearing away a piece of vibrant fabric. Nura-kun melts into the darkness before he can hit the ground and appears on the other side of the glade, and your eyes widen when he rises, only to be intercepted with a savage kick to the gut that throws him into the large koi pond in a geyser of water.

"Nura-kun!" _It's getting stronger!_ Your breath shorts out when the creature swivels its head to stare at you, the twist of its neck snapping the bones at the base of its skull. You fuse Rentei to your arm and take aim, darting your gaze between it and Nura-kun's submerged figure.

_Please be okay_, you pray, before the demon pounces. You unleash a rapid barrage that rains holy water and mist over the area, and in the subsequent pause, you hurl yourself into the trees beyond, hoping to confuse the creature enough to develop a plan while keeping it away from Nura-kun and the populated temple nearby.

As you run, one thought remains completely lucid, thrumming loud and clear above the rush of blood in your ears and setting your lips moving again with the incantation.

_Protect them, protect them, protect them._

You leap over fallen branches and rotting wood as you dodge from tree to tree. Behind you, the goryō follows, ruthlessly tearing through the wood of thick trunks like paper. Each growl sends you sprinting faster, your heart thudding painfully against your ribs, your lips moving rapidly.

_Protect them, protect them…_

You yelp as your body slams into a wall of stone, the air exploding from your lungs as you fall backward to the forest floor. You taste blood in your mouth, feel your lip split under your bitten tongue, and wince at the ache spreading through your back. You look up at the disfigured shadow of your enemy, see its rheumy eyes lock onto your position in the darkness, and feel your heart momentarily stop before it rockets forward with adrenaline. You jump to your feet, ignore the scrapes on your arms and legs and face, and fire Rentei's cannon point blank into the demon's face.

Your ears ring with the proximity of the explosion and the beast's shriek, leaving nothing but a white noise that confuses your already scattered senses.

You don't hear the displacement of air around you, don't see the rippling effect of the space in front of you. You only feel the driving force of a strong arm wrapping around your waist and crushing you against a hard body as you're hurled away into the darkness. Behind you, a violent smash reverberates through the ground, and you hear a fierce burst of air in your ear, a stream of deep curses that sounds too familiar.

_Nura-kun._

"Are you alright?" His voice is rough.

"I'm fine." You try to peer over his shoulder, but he tightens his hold and keeps you still.

"Did you finish the spell?"

You shake your head, frustration filling your gut. "I got intercepted and lost the incantation when it slammed into me."

"Do you have to start again?"

You think. "No, I can start about halfway and continue from there."

"Alright, then we finish this here." With an abrupt stop, Nura-kun places you carefully on your feet, and you wipe away the blood beading your cuts before focusing on your partner. "How much time do you need?" He reaches to swipe at a stubborn scrape on your jaw that refuses to clot, and snatches his hand away when you wince at the sting. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Thanks." Pushing sweaty bangs from your forehead, you scan the dark woods, muscles tense for the slightest movement in the trees. "I shouldn't need more than a few minutes, but are you sure you can handle it?"

"Worried?" He raises Nenekirimaru to his shoulder and regards you curiously, mouth quirked in a cocky grin. You frown, unwilling to play into him.

"I don't want you getting tossed around when the spell starts to take hold and it goes crazy. If we have to, we'll think of another plan."

"No need. I keep him busy, you do your part and seal him." Before you can retort, he vanishes into the trees, and you utter a curse at his stubbornness and listen for the sounds of battle. When they come, the air shatters with a roar, and you solidify your shaky stance and fold your fingers into the fifth incantation, lips already moving in rapid succession. Dozens of feet away, massive trunks crash to the ground, rattling the earth, and the air grows thick with enmity. As you fly through the sixth spell, the seventh, the eighth and the ninth, the presence swells, a black pall that drops dead on your shoulders and sets your lips trembling with strain.

_Almost, almost…_

_Yes!_

With a final syllable, your aura erupts outward, a chain of ancient ink-black symbols whirling in a torrent around you. At the same moment, Nura-kun bursts from the trees, his limbs tangled with a writhing shadow. With a slash, he rends his sword through its neck and swears when the blade passes through harmlessly.

_When the spells have activated, the goryō will be forced away from its earthly body. It will coalesce into its true shape, and in that form it will be the most vulnerable, but also the most dangerous. Physical attacks will no longer harm it, and anything with a soul less powerful than its own will be devoured._

"Nura-kun!" You call his name above the howl of your aura, and he turns to you, hair catching in the whirlwind and whipping about his face. His eyes widen at the spiral enclosure, and you hold out your hand, beckoning him forward. Dodging one last strike, he reaches for you; the moment your fingers brush, you grip his hand tightly and pull him inside the twisting mass of energy, the black letters widening at your will to accommodate his entry. As soon as he lands safely, you pull out an ofuda and lift it above your head with a shout; another gust of wind develops, and Quan appears above your heads, its white wings lifted in flight. It arches with a cry and calls forth a barrier that seals the two of you inside just as the black shadow rams into your space, tongues lashing with desperation. You both flinch when its claws spread a thin crack over the fortification.

"We need to finish this _now_. The shield won't hold." You barely hear Nura-kun over the screaming wind, but he places a steadying hand on your shoulder, blade aimed at the creature's gaping maw, and you nod soundlessly and lift your hands to command the ancient script.

"_Vengeful spirit, be released from your earthly tomb and find peace in death. Discard your wrath and leave the dealings of this world to those still whole!"_ The shadow howls, dark claws digging into the barrier further, spider-webbing cracks into its surface. You lift your voice to sound over the roar. "_**Be free**__!_"

The black script erupts outward, wrapping itself around the shadow's writhing shape. At the same moment, the barrier breaks with the sound of crashing glass, and your shikigami lets out a high-pitched cry and disappears in a swirl of feathers. Your strength is sucked away as the spell takes hold, and you involuntarily slump against Nura-kun's solid form as the dark woods go black.

The last sound to reach your ears is the distant call of your name…and a familiar tinkle of laughter.

* * *

"Well. What a scene I've come to behold this morning."

You crack your eyes open to the glare of a sunbeam and groan at the bright intrusion that spears through your eyelids. Instinctively, you huddle closer to your cushions, pull the blanket over your face…and freeze.

You're not home. Your blanket is too thin and too short. Your pillow, much too hard.

When it moves under your cheek and something pokes you in the forehead, you jump with a shout, narrowly avoiding a collision with the shadowed figure above you.

"Keikain-san." A relieved voice sounds, and you spin to see Nura-kun's human face gazing back at you, his mouth curved in a smile. "You're alright."

"She must be, to have such a boisterous awakening." You whip around to face another voice, and find yourself staring into the white visage of a woman, her red lips quirked in a smile. "Good morning, young onmyouji."

The memories return in a rush, and you gasp as you recall the heated battle that endangered your lives. "Where is it?"

"You mean this?" You turn to regard the woman before you, her tall form seated just in front of the small shrine. She presents you with your scroll, her smile widening. "What a surprise I found in my forest at dawn. A youkai and onmyouji, huddled together like faithful companions. An unusual sight, to be sure." The woman leans forward, black hair trailing across her shoulders to pool on the ground around her as she gazes at you patiently.

Your eyes widen. _She's the deity._ You gather yourself and rise to your feet, bowing to your waist in reverence. Nura-kun remains seated, legs spread out in front of him, and you eye him confusedly. He smiles with a light shrug. "We met while you were still sleeping."

The woman chuckles. "Indeed, there is no need for such formality. You protected my home, after all." As you nod and seat yourself, she smiles. "I am the guardian of this temple. The locals refer to me as Tengoku." Her gaze shifts from you to Nura-kun. "While I expected a Keikain to be called here, I did not expect her to be accompanied by a Nura. What has brought the two of you together?"

You blink. "We're friends." You look to Nura-kun, and he agrees with a smile.

The woman leans back with a nod. "Ah, then you are like your predecessors. I never thought I'd meet another pair like the two of them."

You try not to splutter. "You know Hidemoto and Nurarihyon?" Beside you, Nura-kun blinks in surprise.

"I do. Centuries ago, the 13th Keikain head and new Lord of Pandemonium visited my shrine and shared sake with me." The woman regards Nura-kun. "Is Nurarihyon your father? No, perhaps your grandfather. He was a terrible flirt, he was, but you seem to have a solid head on your shoulders. I imagine it would take a couple of generations to whittle that attitude down to something manageable."

You withhold a snort. "Wait for the sun to set. He's no different from his grandfather." Nura-kun gives you a playful frown.

"I'm not that bad."

You eye him skeptically. "Have you ever had to deal with yourself?" You quirk an eyebrow when he chuckles with a small shake of the head. "Exactly."

The woman watches your exchange with an amused smile, and you turn back to her when she speaks. "Yes, I see the resemblance the two of you have with that pair. How interesting."

As she rises from her seat, you're struck by how tall the deity is, her colorful kimono gleaming in the sunshine. "I thank you for your assistance, young Keikain and Nura. Because of your courage, this garden can remain a place of peace. You have my gratitude."

You both rise to your feet and bow. "It was our pleasure."

"May your journey home be safe." With that, she vanishes from sight with the soft ringing of bells. You walk to where your meager belongings were left in your haste and heft the pack onto your shoulder, wincing when your back complains.

"That bastard packed a wallop."

"Definitely more than we anticipated." Nura-kun waits for you at the entrance to the glade, smiling in empathy when you wince again. "Want me to carry that for you?"

"No, I got it. You were roughed up more than I was."

He grins. "But I heal faster."

"Humor me, then." As you trek back to the temple, you eye the man next to you. "Thanks for your help."

"I didn't do much. Nenekirimaru barely scratched that thing. It was your spell that did it in." Nura-kun looks to you with a smile. "That was amazing, by the way. Have you always known how to do that?"

"Exorcisms are a skill all onmyouji can accomplish. It's just a matter of how strong of an incantation is needed. The more powerful the spirit, the more complex the sealing spell."

Nura-kun listens with apparent interest. "Wow. And I thought I had a pretty good idea about spirits. I would've been fighting that guy 'til morning."

You shrug. "I get the feeling you would have found a way to beat it somehow. You've done the seemingly impossible before."

"Only because I had friends like you to help me."

You sigh leniently. You're used to his humility. "Let's just say it took both of us."

"Deal," he agrees, chuckling. You arrive at the temple just as the sun hits its zenith, its heated rays highlighting the sweat and dirt dusting your skin. The priest waits for you at the temple doors, wizened face split in a smile.

"The dark aura has vanished. I can't thank you enough for your help, Keikain-sama." You wave your hand in reserve.

"The good work you do here is thanks enough. Don't hesitate to call on us again if you're in need."

"Surely we could at least allow you to freshen up before your journey home?"

You exchange a look with Nura-kun before politely declining. "Thank you, but we should return sooner rather than later."

"Of course. Thank you again." He bows in farewell, and you wave to the temple's occupants before turning away.

"So that's your typical onmyouji case," Nura-kun thinks aloud, and you nod.

"Pretty much. We come, take care of the problem, then leave."

He smiles. "You must enjoy helping these people."

"It's nice. I can't complain, anyway." Stepping off the climbing path, you turn to Nura-kun, questioning. "How did you get here?"

"Oboro-garuma dropped me off."

You blink. "The ox cart with the giant head?"

He chuckles. "That's him. How about you? Did you take a train?"

"I took Tanrou."

This time Nura-kun blinks, his mouth slowly curving in a bemused smile. "Really?"

"Mm. It's easier, since the closest train is still a good distance away from here."

"Ah." Nura-kun casually looks around himself, and you lift an eyebrow.

"Is Oboro-garuma coming back?"

He shrugs, completely nonchalant. "Don't know, to be honest."

You sigh at his vagueness and reach into your sleeve for an ofuda. Tanrou materializes at your side, shaking out his white mane of fur and sniffing the dry air. Hopping onto his back, you reach a hand out to Nura-kun, who eyes it with a tilt to his head.

"You might as well come along," you say, eyes narrowing suspiciously when he grins and takes your hand. Pulling him up behind you, you wait for him to settle.

"Never ridden a wolf before," he murmurs, sounding enthused, and you turn to catch his attention.

"Just don't grip his fur too hard. He gets agitated." Nura-kun nods obediently, and you smirk at his boy-scout manner. "Alright. Let's go."

When Tanrou takes off with a lurch, you hear Nura-kun suck in a breath and tense slightly at your back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replies, a little breathless, and you indicate for Tanrou to decrease his speed slightly. "You're probably used to this, huh?" He sucks in another startled breath when Tanrou jumps downs to level ground. You smile.

"Pretty much. After a while, you learn to match his movements." Tanrou leaps again, and you flick his ear in scolding when he releases a rough bark that sounds suspiciously like laughter. Nura-kun bumps lightly against your back, and you look back at him. "You sure you're okay?"

"Sorry. I can't get a good grip on his fur. Guess I'm not as accustomed."

"You can ride talking snakes and giant heads and flying boats, but you can't keep your balance on a wolf?"

"I'm a complex person," he jokes, chuckling, and you roll your eyes before reaching back and grabbing his slipping fingers; planting them on your waist, you shoot him a look over your shoulder.

"No squeezing," you warn, and he laughs and adjusts the hold, wrapping his arms loosely around your middle. You have to resituate yourself; you've rarely had to share Tanrou's back before, and the transition is strange. You counteract it by motioning for Tanrou to increase his speed, and he answers with a sprint that temporarily blurs the landscape. In the distance, you see the small dot of the speeding train, smoke billowing into the air and tracks loudly rattling with momentum.

"There's our alternative," Nura-kun points out, his voice close to your ear. "How fast can Tanrou go?"

You smile proudly. "Please." With a tap to his flank, you send your shikigami dashing, his lengthy gait bringing you closer to the tracks. He matches the train's speed for an instant before sprinting past it, and Nura-kun laughs in your ear.

"Should've known!" You're surprised when his arms suddenly leave your waist; you feel him shift his position and blink when his back comes to rest comfortably against yours. "When we went to retrieve Nenekirimaru from Akifusa-san, Itaku, Tsurara, and I ran alongside the train we were riding. Ryuuji-san called us idiots the whole way."

You're amused at the picture he paints, imagining your brother's face as he's left alone in the train's carriage. "That sounds right. What did he do?"

"Nothing, until I offered to carry him." You let slip a series of snickers; Nura-kun's back vibrates through yours as he laughs along. "He tried to release Gengen, but the water kept catching the wind and blowing away!"

Some stories are too good to keep a straight face. The image is too clear, the wind on your cheeks is too fresh, and the friend against your back feels too secure. You lean over Tanrou's shoulder, gusts of laughter ruffling his fur and Nura-kun's back curving against yours as he joins in your mirth.

Laughing at your brother with one of his least favorite people? There's very little that can bring you more satisfaction.

You're still grinning pleasurably when Nura-kun breaks the easy silence with a soft timbre. "Keikain-san?"

"Hm?" You strain to hear him over the sound of the wind and Tanrou's paws.

"You sound nice. When you laugh, I mean. I can't remember you doing it much in the past, but it's really…pretty-sounding."

You turn, puzzled, to regard him, only to glimpse his closed eyes, his chin lifted to the breeze, and his lips curved in a serene smile, as if he never uttered a word.

* * *

The sun is setting when the Main House comes into view, its towering gates a welcome sight. Your brothers call out their greetings as you gallop through, and Tanrou finally stops in the courtyard, where you hop off and immediately stretch your arms, grunting with your movements. You're sore, more so than you were that morning, and for a moment, you wonder if skipping the train was that great of an idea. Tanrou nuzzles your palm, and you stroke his muzzle with a grin. "Well done as always."

As he vanishes, you turn to Nura-kun, who dusts his sleeves and straightens his kimono. He notices your gaze and raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Is it weird, changing like that all the time?" You eye the lengthened white-black hair and paler skin.

He smirks. "You get used to it. It was stranger when I was younger and the two forms didn't match up as well."

You nod, still studying the differences when he speaks again. "Besides, _you've_ changed forms before, too."

"Nothing that drastic, and not so often," you reply, shrugging, before finally looking away. The bedchambers, their paper panels gleaming with lamplight, look incredibly inviting. You sigh longingly.

_Will there ever be a mission where I can stay clean and just jump into bed?_ In the back of your head, you hear a resounding 'no', and sigh more heavily.

"You alright?" Nura-kun looks at you curiously.

"Just wondering when I'll get a job that doesn't drench me in my own filth." He chuckles and reaches over to familiarly pat your head.

"Keep hope alive," he teases, and you knock his hand away out of habit.

"You have a way to get back to Ukiyoe, right? See you later." You give him a look before turning away, set to resolutely march away. You yelp when he pulls you back, fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

You frown at the flash in his eyes. "To bathe and sleep, because I'm dirty and tired." You shake your captured wrist in emphasis.

He sighs in disappointment. "You've obviously forgotten our deal."

"What deal?" Even as you say the words, the memory surfaces: a bento box, a cup of sake, and an attempt to get this guy off your back. You wince. "Oh."

"Ah," he says, victory lacing his tone as he gently tugs you in the opposite direction of your precious futon. "You _do_ remember."

"Yeah, and I said I'd _think_ about it." You grab the hand holding your wrist and attempt to pry his fingers away, but he holds firm.

"I gave you my dinner and risked my life to help you. This will be how you repay me."

"Friends shouldn't keep score!" You tug harder, feet skidding on the pavement.

"Oh? We're friends, huh?" He abruptly lets go, and you stumble back, trying to keep your balance. He grabs your sleeve and pulls you back toward him, snickering when you scowl and yank yourself away, crossing your arms. "I'm touched."

You look away haughtily, unwilling to respond to his goad.

"Still…" He sounds contemplative, but you refuse to acknowledge him. "There aren't any good places for sake-drinking here. Your cherry trees are tiny." He looks at you, smirking. "Guess it's a trend."

"I'm leaving." You stomp your way across the courtyard, muscles aching with each step, brain frazzled with exhaustion. You lift your foot to rise onto the veranda…and blink when it doesn't touch the wood. Instead, it lifts higher, and an arm wraps around your waist.

"Good idea, Yura. We'll take a tour of the city until we find someplace suitable."

"_What_? I didn't say anything!" You don't have the chance to counter; Nura-kun's Fear surrounds you in a black veil, and the veranda, the courtyard, the entire complex vanishes from your sight.

It's a strange sensation, being trapped within a youkai's Fear. Past experiences have labeled the feeling as stifling, suffocating in its intensity, leaving you shivering in a cold sweat that resembles the waking moments after a nightmare, when you still think the monsters are real.

This Fear is different. Strangely light, free of malice, and almost soothing as it carries you to gods-know-where. You've seen Nura-kun's Fear, seen the awe that fills those who witness it. And you know that he's purposefully keeping it tame for your sake.

_Because that's just the person he is_, you think for the millionth time, a rationale that has stayed with you since the moment you met and realized his secret. It's the same rationale that's always provided an excuse for his teasing, his arrogance, and his lineage.

And just when you think you've found a real reason to rebuff him completely, he comes back with his own marque of care and compassion, flickering behind glasses and helpful hands, smirks and tawny eyes.

Sometimes you think you're doomed to dance these circles around him and with him, closer, then farther, then closer still.

"Oi, don't space out on me." You drop a short distance to the ground when Nura-kun releases you, your hands slapping the concrete. With a scowl, you rise to your feet, only to gape as the wind pulls at your hair.

"_This_ is your brilliant location? The top of a damn _skyscraper_?!"

"Thought you'd enjoy the view." He seats himself comfortably, crossing his legs and reaching into his sleeve for his bottle and sakazuki. He taps the ground next to him when you don't move. "Planning to jump? Can't promise I'll catch you."

"As if I'd want you to." You gaze carefully over the edge, tilting yourself further to get a look at the busy streets below. You shout when he grabs the collar of your haori and yanks you back.

"Oi, are you crazy?" You land on your backside with a thump and rub your tailbone before jabbing his shoulder in complaint.

"That _hurt_, jackass."

"Better than being a splat on the sidewalk." He pours himself a splash of sake, looking at you over the rim of his cup. "You have a death wish?"

"I didn't before," you snap back, and he grins.

"Didn't know I affected you so much. Interesting."

"Don't flatter yourself." You cross your arms under your chest, eyes on the colored skyline. The sun is a small half-moon on the horizon, deep red against a slowly darkening sky, and you admit to yourself that the view is beautiful, probably the best in the city. Leaning back on your hands, you slowly relax your tense muscles, content to let the match die for the moment.

"Why do you think that goryō was so angry with Tengoku?" You shrug at Nura-kun's inquiry, your brow furrowing in thought.

"I don't know. I'll search through our records tomorrow." You release a noisy exhale, already seeing a mountain's worth of research ahead of you. "Maybe Hidemoto will know something." Your ancestor had been quiet for the last few weeks since the heat wave began, insisting that you only call when absolutely necessary. _I shouldn't be surprised._ _He says the same thing when the temperature drops in winter._

"Lady Keikain is on the case, huh? I feel sorry for the guy." Nura-kun chuckles, and you hear the swishing of liquid before his sakazuki appears in front of you. "Before you lock yourself away in the archives," he explains, and you reluctantly take the cup with an eye roll.

"I'd only be doing this to get you to shut up."

He smirks. "Fair enough. Consider it a toast to a successful mission. Such things are always done in the company of a friend."

"Guess you'd know," you mutter, and take a deep breath before pushing the cup to your lips. The liquid spills onto your tongue, mild and floral and smooth, and you tilt the cup further to empty it completely. As you swallow, you blink at the pleasant flavor, surprised, before you collapse into a coughing fit, a deep burn tumbling down your windpipe and igniting your throat. As you hack, Nura-kun laughs, his voice echoing into the empty space around you. Underneath your hair, he pats your back soothingly.

"Sorry," he chuckles, "I forgot that was the old man's special stash. It's pretty potent."

"You did this on purpose!" The accusation is weak; your body is still hunched over as the burn remains in your throat, lining it with fire. Tears blur your vision, and you wipe at your eyes. "How does anyone _enjoy_ this?"

"I suppose it's an acquired taste." He continues to pat your back as you finally straighten. Your face is too warm, your eyes watery, your balance off-kilter. "Give yourself a minute."

"Some 'friend' you are," you grouse, placing a hand to your head as it goes fuzzy.

"I only filled the cup halfway. You're just the lightweight I said you were." He chuckles again, catching a strand of your hair and rubbing it between his fingers. You eye his movements for a few moments, frowning.

"You're weird."

He smirks. "So I've been told. Feel better?"

"No." You watch his fingers sift through the ends, forming a black brush to rub against the back of your hand. "You've always been weird."

"Mmhm." He's chuckling again.

"Like when you invited me over to your house when we were younger, and you kept smiling, like your face was stuck. And then you ate my eggs, and everyone stared."

"You remember that, huh?" Nura-kun twists the strand around his finger, tugging it lightly.

You smile slightly. "I remember everything about my time in Ukiyoe."

"That's good." He tugs again.

"Yeah." The stars begin blinking in, coalescing into the galaxies you studied two nights earlier. The giant bear appears, leading its child, and your wonderings return. "Nura-kun?"

"Yeah?"

"What you do think is up there?" You feel him look to you, then gaze upward; when he answers, there's a grin in his voice.

"The Nura Clan."

You quirk your lips, shaking your head. "Of course."

Nura-kun allows your hair to finally slide free of his fingers; he leans back on his hands next to you, copying your pose. "My father's up there, with my grandmother, and everyone who has ever fought alongside our family."

He lifts a hand to trace a rough picture. "Every time I face an obstacle, they transfer their strength into my hands and my blade."

You smile. "So a giant party of drunken youkai is up there?"

"Absolutely," he says, utterly confident, and you shake your head, amused. "I'll bet your gramps is up there, too."

You freeze, rapidly bringing your gaze down to stare at him. His features match his tone, a self-assured smirk marking his lips. You lick your own and taste the floral remnants of sake. "…what do you think they're doing?"

"Talking, I'd say. Probably drinking some really good sake." He grins, lowering his chin to wink at you. "Bet your gramps can hold his liquor better than you can."

"Probably." Your voice is a whisper, and Nura-kun eyes you with confusion, concern lighting his face when you swipe at your eyes with a quick hand. You smile at him, pretending casualness. "That stuff must be getting to me."

He immediately looks doubtful, but he spares you with a nod. "Let's get you back on solid ground, then."

The trip down is more pleasant; you accept the wrapping of Nura-kun's Fear around your limbs, the darkness lapping the edges of your vision, and land safely on the veranda outside your bedroom.

"Get some rest before you tackle that case. I'll have some of my sources look into it, and we'll exchange info the next time we speak." He reaches to gently ruffle your hair before taking his leave.

"Nura-kun." You call after him, hands twisting into your hakama, and he turns to regard you curiously, hands shoved into his sleeves. You take a breath. "Do you really think our families are up there together?"

His face morphs into speculation. "Of course." He frowns slightly. "You don't really think that stupid 'black and white' thing applies up _there_, do you?"

You think for a moment before shaking your head, recalling your wish for a colorful world, vibrant and varied. And you think of the person who first planted that wish in your head. "No…I think you're right."

He blinks in surprise before grinning. "Good. So when we finally go up there, we'll meet up with each other. Maybe you'll have developed some tolerance by then." Abruptly, his features change again, forming a question. "Although…I don't think your old men would be very happy to see me."

Your brow scrunches in bewilderment. "Why not?"

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, perhaps take action. His features are oddly blank, his eyes unreadable. You cock your head in question and open your mouth to ask after him, when he smirks, gaze secretive.

"Ask my human self. He's yelling at me to keep my mouth shut, so I'll leave it to him to explain." With a casual salute, he disperses into the shadows, leaving you alone, dumbfounded. Too tired to decipher his riddles, you shake your head and retreat to your room, where you wash yourself clean and fall into the embrace of cool sheets, convinced that he was speaking nonsense as usual.

But as you stare to the high ceiling, feel the tatami mats under your restless fingers, you can't help the curiosity rising in your gut like water in a well or a spire in the clouds.

_Your mind is too open_, you think. _Your tongue is too loose._

And if you concentrate, you can still taste a tiny vestige of sake on your lips.

You frown, closing your eyes and swiping with your tongue. _Stupid alcohol._

* * *

**Special Notes**: Tian Quan is the shikigami crane pair I created as an addition to Yura's arsenal. Yura's shikigami are named after the stars in the constellation Ursa Majoris, the great bear, and the names themselves are Japanese renditions of the titles given to the stars by the Chinese Tang Dynasty. One star is called Megrez or _Tian Quan_, and is the fourth star of the North Pole; its name means "Star of Celestial Balance." Separating the names, _Tian_ means weather, nature, or sky, while _Quan_ means whole, entire, or plenary. Because I want to avoid butchering a translation from Chinese to Japanese, I've chosen to keep the name in Chinese.

- The _aoi_, also known as the alcea or hollyhock, is a genus of flower native to southwest and central Asia. There are examples of the flower's use throughout Japanese culture and history, including the Tokugawa Shogunate seal and its former city's professional soccer team. The flower is also part of one of the three main festivals in Kyoto, the _Aoi Matsuri_ or Hollyhock festival. Symbolically, the flower can stand for ambition and fecundity, meaning new growth or the ability to produce abundant offspring. The white aoi in particular can mean female ambition, which I think fits Yura well.

- The "Kyoto girl" statement that Rikuo quotes is from the early chapters of the _Nura Mago_ manga. Kana recalls the saying when she judges Yura's questions about Rikuo to be a sign of her liking him, despite her outward lack of interest. The statement itself is a reflection of the Kyoto dialect, which, from what I've studied, is naturally formal-sounding, regardless of who the speaker is interacting with.

- The goryō is a vengeful spirit in Japanese mythology. These ghosts were originally people of the aristocratic class (i.e. lords) who had been wronged or betrayed in life. They could also have been martyrs. According to tradition, the goryō could only be quelled with the help of yamabushi, mountain ascetic hermits who were imbued with supernatural powers.

- The deity featured in this chapter is also my own creation. Her name, _Tengoku_, means paradise or heaven, to signify the harmony she had with the children she cared for, who were both human and youkai.

- The vernal and autumnal equinoxes are the two times in the year when the Earth day is equal to the Earth night, and the Earth's equator is aligned with the sun. For this story, this perfect alignment between day and night represents the goddess' protection of the harmonious symmetry between darkness and light. The garden in which she resides is the most abundant at these times of the year.


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